#I just needed to complain about it somewhere and I don’t want to actually bother the people I normally live with

[mikanotes]

don’t even bother ft. aventurine x gn!reader — just something short bcs his va is too good at his job and him voicing that post made me go oh wow! warnings cursing, clingy aven and reader in denial about their feelings, one suggestive joke, badly written Sorry! this is very much dedicated to nour enjoy ur bf

The light of the sun indicates that the day has started much longer ago than you had originally thought. You cling onto sleep, nevertheless, not at all fond of the idea of facing the day properly.

“Alright. I understand.”

There isn’t need for any context for you to get that the second disruption of your attempts at going back to dreamland is a call concerning work, of all things. The clear exhaustion and barely concealed frustration in Aventurine’s voice as he speaks to the person on the other end of that call indicates he probably feels the same as you.

Irritated enough to go back to sleep immediately after hanging up.

“Let’s schedule the interview for today.” he says, sounding like he’s stretching. Oh, great. He’s decided to be professional and get up. You hear him heave a long sigh, probably after hanging up, and blindly try to reach for him.

“No.” you mumble, frowning slightly. Aventurine hums, seemingly surprised, then chuckles.

“Hm? No?” he repeats, and leans down. You open your eyes enough to see him cover the painful rays of sunlight streaming through the curtains. He looks at you and tilts his head with a smile, “Not even a hello, huh? You’re so polite.” his voice drips with sarcasm.

You try to press your palm to his face but he grabs your wrist before you can, laughing. He presses closer to you and leans his forehead to your shoulder. “No what?” he asks, whispering. You don’t appreciate the chill that runs down your spine. He’s so close.

“No to leaving before me. I heard that call.”

He smiles against your neck before pulling back to look at you. “Who says I’m leaving?” he huffs softly, “I was just trying to sound awake, okay? And since when were you this clingy?”

“I’m the same as usual,” you complain, turning to lay on your back, “I just don’t want to be kicked out become the actual room’s owner isn’t here, is all. It’s a pain to deal with.”

He’s right. You’re not a clingy person. In fact, you don’t usually find yourself sleeping in the same bed as anyone, no matter how close you are to them. This is just… A rare occurence.

You and Aventurine getting one too many drinks at a nearby bar, you realizing you didn’t get yourself a hotel room prior to the whole ordeal, and crashing in his luxury bedsheets before he could protest.

And the worst part of it? You slept well.

In any case, the problem was that the warmth of someone by your side as you slept felt much more comforting than you��d expected it to be. Maybe it was just the previous night’s drinks residue blurring your thoughts. Maybe that’s what made you say no to him potentially leaving before you could actually process it.

Maybe it’s just because it’s him, and you never really mind him being so close to you.

He sighs and moves over your figure, planting his arm at the side of your head to hover over you. “You’re an awful liar. You wouldn’t last at poker.”

“Enlighten me. What the hell am I lying about?”

“This.”

He smiles, and it somehow makes you all the more aware of the distance between the two of you. It’s not nerve-wracking but it’s not uncomfortable. And it’s not comfortable, either, but it’s somewhere there in the middle. It’s on that line that makes your head struggle to keep up and that’s more than enough to tell you how badly you’re handling what should be a routine, by now. This is nothing new, come on.

“Who am I lying to…?” you continue.

He scoffs. “Yourself. I can practically see the gears turning inside your head. It’s almost cute.”

It’s your turn to scoff. “Almost.”

He smiles to himself but doesn’t add more, moving away from you. He breathes out tiredly as he leans back against his pillows, a hand moving to cover his eyes. “You should get the higher-ups to call for a room for you. No one’ll bother you then.”

“You’re the higher-ups, do it yourself, you have the funds.” you imitate a robotic-sounding voice, then sigh, “That’s what they’ll tell me.”

“Mm, will they, now?”

You look at him. Only then do you notice the sun on his skin, his slightly messed up bangs, and the one button holding that cursed hotel pajamas top. You press your eyes shut with half a mind to hold back an annoyed groan. Don’t look at him like that, you repeat in your head.

You and Aventurine are friends. He likes to tease and flirt but that’s just how he is, so there’s really nothing more to it. You work as a negotiator for a group who frequently deals with the IPC’s offers and request for help to convince people of their grandiose plans. And Aventurine is arguably very high-up in the ranks of the IPC. It’s a wonder you even became friends, but it has been a long while now. A long while of bantering, clinging into each other just a bit too much, and listening to the other’s stories the very few times either of you actually opened up.

— Most of those times being after drinks. Nevertheless, it counts for something.

But you’ve never seen him in this kind of light. In sunlight! You’re not seeing him in any kind of new light at all. It’s just a different atmosphere than what you’re used to around him. You’ve spent time talking for hours at quiet bars or helping each other out in the most chaotic situations, but it’s never been this.

It’s so… calm.

But your phone rings. You sigh heavily before you grab it and answer the call. “Hello?” You barely get to properly register who called you before the voice of your senior at work starts complaining in your ear. You grimace.

Aventurine stares at you curiously.

“… This is really last-minute. Seriously?” you say, then wait for an answer. Seems like you’re needed somewhere again. But calling you saying to get to a location one system hour later is just… “Fine, I’ll— I said fine. I’ll be there. Yeah. Yes, sir.”

You hang up. Quiet daydream’s over.

“Turns out I’m gonna need to leave, anyways.” you mutter, sitting up. You suddenly become very aware of how comfortable it was simply laying there talking with Aventurine. Now that you’re faced eith your usual duties and loud coworkers, you’re forced to realize just how soothing the man’s presence is in comparison.

You feel a hand on your arm. It’s warm on your skin, holding some remains from the sun’s touch. You turn your head to see Aventurine’s fingers trailing down slightly, seemingly in thought. “How about…” he trails off, brows furrowing.

“How about?”

He looks up at you and grins before pulling you back into him, wrapping his free arm around your waist swiftly. You end up much closer to his face than either of you had anticipated but you don’t move away, and neither does he.

“How about we take a day off?” he whispers.

You try to say something but no word comes to mind. Aventurine stares at you for a while and you notice his gaze flitting down your face for a flicker of a second before he grabs your arm more firmly and pulls you closer, leaving you no room to even attempt thinking. “Hm?”

“I, you… Fuck you.” is the only response you manage to get out of your throat, and even that sounds half-hearted. It almost sounds like a question, even. You have to blame it on the exhaustion. You brain’s not cooperating, right now.

“Are you offering?”

Now he’s done it. You manage to grab his pillow from underneath his head to swat it at him, making him exclaim in surprise and soon yell for mercy. “Okay, hold on, hear me out, I’m sorry!”

You lower the pillow, looking down at him. You’ve been close before but straddling him’s a new one. Outside of fighting, that is. Maybe this counts as fighting.

“Good Heavens.” he huffs, hair at least ten times messier than it was before, “Okay. That was unnecessary.”

“False. Deserved.”

“…Perhaps.” he clicks his tongue, and carefully picks his pillow from your hands, like it’s a gun threatening to fire at him. “But that was no answer to my offer. Shall we take a vacation?”

“You get to decide when your vacation is?”

His sigh sounds nothing short of exasperated. “Just play along, will you? If you do, I’ll find a way to cover for both of us.” he says, fingers touching your face for who-knows-why. His eyes focus back on yours and he raises his eyebrows questioningly.

You’re not going to immediately say yes.

“Fine. Full blame’s on you if my boss kills me.”

He laughs, seemingly pleased with your answer.

“Then rest.” he says quietly, pulling you against his chest. You tense for a while, then relax. Now the sun is on your skin, too, and its warmth almost seems to beckon you back into sleep. Or is it his arms wrapped around you? You can’t tell.

Maybe the world feels a bit less harsh and cold when Aventurine is with you, and maybe you just shouldn’t bother questioning it.

[kissitbttr]

frat!Miguel and reader getting into an argument and them posting indirects on each others snap/insta stories and them reposting shady tiktoks knowing the other will see it until miguel just cracks and starts posting cute shit abt her😁😁😁

you are petty when it comes to arguing, never wanted to be the one to take defeat. you will crawl on broken glasses to hell and back before admitting that you’re wrong,

and sometimes it takes a toll on miguel, he’s frustrated over how you are so hard headed sometimes. because then it would lead to this. silent treatment and you stopping to go over the frat house,

but what drives him crazy the most is when he sees all the spam reposts on tiktok coming from your acc, somehow all of them made it to his for you page,

at first, miguel were doing the same too. to see how much you liked getting a little taste of your medicine,

“i’m annoying? you’re annoying, muñeca. let’s see how you like this one. bam” he snickers to himself as he reposts another tiktok of a guy complaining about his girlfriend’s petty behavior,

however the thing is? you don’t actually give a shit,

you’ve been training far too long to deal with this thanks to the shitty men in your previous relationship. so him being petty as you? doesn’t bother you a bit. if anything, it makes it more fun,

it irks him to know that you’re not responding to any of it. if he’s being honest, he wants you to spam him with texts of you being clingy and telling him to stop doing all that extra shit on tiktok. he misses that. he misses you

he swears he’s not letting himself go at that time. he wants you to be the one who apologizes or at least hit him back up. even glen had told him before to wait a couple more days and see if you would actually text him instead the other way around.

but five days without talking to his muñeca and sleeping by her side? yeah, he’s had it

miguel swipes through his contact list and hit your number before dialing it, pacing back and forth in his room.

“hello?” you answer after a few rings,

“i give up. I can’t. i don’t like this, i don’t like you being far from me” he blurts out without saying hello back, head shaking. “you need to come back, muñeca, please. i’m fucking losing it here”

“so you admit defeat, huh?” you smirk on the other line,

“yes. i am folding. i am on my knees.” he admits, running through a hand through his hair out of frustrations. “i’ll say anything you want to hear, whatever it is”

with a chuckle, you decide to tease him more. “post me more on your socials, maybe i think about it”

“i did!” he cries out, “three on my stories and three of your pics on the feed. and I’m rarely active on instagram, you know that!”

oh, he’s serious about this. “aw that’s so sweet, o’hara”

he wide eyed, not liking that name. “o’hara? who the fuck—no o’hara here! i am not o’hara to you, princesa!”

you laugh at how adorable he sounds when he gets upset over you call him by his last name,

you do miss him. miss him so much you can’t even think straight any more. and you hate having this little argument with him, it takes too much of you and his time. sleeping alone doesn’t sound so good anymore, it’s better with hin around.

“get over here, miggy”

he grins at your sudden invitation, grabbing his car keys off the table before rushing out of his room, nearly tripping over the carpet floor as he plucks his jacket from the couch. couple of the guys are all sat in the living room, eyes darting to his.

“woah, easy there pal. going somewhere?” beck raises an eyebrow at his best friend’s clumsy antics,

miguel slips on his shoes and put his signature snapback on

“heading over to my girl’s. won’t be back till tomorrow. bye.”with a cheeky grin, he fist bumps beck who looks at him funny before walking out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

carlos pops a beer can open, plopping onto the empty space of the sofa.

“you guys see that right? him being fucking whipped?”

[wildemaven]

he makes life better | joel miller

-> pairing: no outbreak!joel miller x reader

-> word count: 1335

-> content warning: 18+ blog; bad day, annoyed with work, dealing with flat tire, joel being sweet, lots of fluff

-> note: this is for my sweet friend @gnpwdrnwhiskey hoping this brings a smile to her face 💞 this isn’t beta’d either so it’s probably filled with mistakes lol.

masterlist

Joel ❤️: How’s your day going Honey?

I’m so ready for my shift to be over. I’d rather read the dictionary, front to back, than deal with the shit they have me doing today. 

RING

“That bad, huh?” Joel’s voice brings you an instant smile when you answer his call, silently stepping away from the mess that you were dealing with at work. 

“You have no idea. It already feels like it’s been the longest week, today has just added to the shit show life keeps throwin’ at me lately. Went to leave for work this morning and I had a flat tire. Ugh! I’m sorry for complaining.” You vent to him, tucking yourself in a secluded corner. You were going against policy by taking a personal call while on the clock, but you didn’t care about company policy or the outcome of you were to get caught at the moment— Joel was your only focus right now. 

“Hey, none of that. Don’t apologize for being stressed. Why didn’t ya call me ‘bout your tire?” Joel asked. 

You know he would’ve dropped everything the minute did call him, which is also why you didn’t. He had been stressing over starting at a new job site, one of the biggest ones he had been hired for. The last thing you wanted was to add to his already busy day of things he had to deal with. 

“You’d already left for work and had that new job you’ve been talkin’ about. Didn’t wanna bother you with it. I called AAA and had them put the spare on for me so I could drop it off at the tire shop. Now, I’m unexpectedly the owner of 4 new tires.” 

“I don’t care how busy I am— you need something, you call me, no matter what. Got that, Honey?” 

“Got it, Joel. Thank you.” You smile into the phone at his concern for you, always finding ways to make you fall even deeper in love with him. 

“Good. Hey, I gotta go. Tommy looks like he’s about ready to break his back. I should probably go help him before he actually does and my insurance takes a hit. I’ll see ya tonight then, sweetheart?” 

“Yeah. I should be outta here in 3 hours.” The end to your long shift, almost over. 

“That sounds great! I love you, Honey. I’ll see ya later.” You can faintly hear Tommy cursing in the background. 

“Love you too, Joel.” You tell him before the line goes dead. Giving yourself a few minutes of quiet before heading back to join your team and the never ending line of customers. 

The rest of your shift goes by fairly quickly. Joel’s phone call must have been just the moral boost you needed to sprinkle a little bit of extra positivity into your day.

The minute the clock hit 5 pm, you wasted no time clocking out and logging out of your computer for the day. Deliberately bypassing your usual exit path to avoid any chatty coworkers, Joel and home your main focus of the rest of your day, you weren’t going to waste any time stuck in drawn out conversations. 

Your purse thrown over your shoulder, work apron crumpled in one hand and the other holding your empty tumbler that once held the warm delicious coffee you had hoped would sustain you through the day, now wishing it was filled with something a little stronger to help you unwind when you got home. 

It’s a struggle trying to juggle your things as you search for your keys, lost somewhere in the depths of your purse along with the rest of your life's necessities. You pause in the middle of an empty parking space near where your jeep is parked to give the search your full attention. After some thorough digging, you locate your keys and let out an exasperated sigh, one step closer to being home. 

Taking a step forward as you press the unlock button on your key, you look up to see an unexpected sight. A familiar truck in the parking spot next to yours, and the most handsome man leaning on it. He looks like he came straight from the job sight, too. His peppered grey hair disheveled, but his soft curls were still intact even after a long day. The sleeves of your favorite green flannel are rolled up over his flexed forearms that are crossed against his chest, the fabric stretched over his broad shoulders. 

The sight of him is enough to melt away any of the bullshit you had endured over the past week, a completely welcomed surprise. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, letting your feet carry you the rest of the way to him. 

“Heard you were havin’ a shitty day. Couldn’t let my lady end it on a bad note.” He croons, pushing himself off the side of his truck, opening his arms to you. 

You melt into him, your face nestled into his shoulder. His rugged scent of musky vanilla and natural pheromones is permanently infused into the fibers of his shirt, it’s your favorite thing ever. His strong arms wrap around you as he presses a soft kiss to your temple, prompting you to straighten up, looking into his amber eyes. 

“Hi, Cowboy.” You beam at him. 

“Hi.” He says, leaning in to gently mold his lips over yours. “I’ve got a surprise for ya, Honey.” 

“This was enough of a surprise for me. What more could I need?” Stealing another kiss from him. 

“If I tell ya, it won’t be a surprise then, will it?” He says, tilting his head slightly as he looks at you. 

“I guess you have a point.” 

“We’ve gotta get going though, it’s time sensitive.” He grabs for your things and walks you around to the passenger door, holding it open as you climb in. “We’ll grab your jeep in the mornin’, if that’s okay with you?” 

“Whatever you say, Cowboy.” He leans back in for another kiss, before making his way around into the driver’s seat. 

*

The drive isn’t long. Down some familiar roads that lead to a dirt one off the main highway. His truck travels down the gravel road lined with a barbed wire fence. After a few minutes he’s pulling off to the side and killing the engine. 

“You brought me to my favorite place.” Looking over to his side of the truck, where he’s already looking in your direction. Your heart grows at how he thought to bring you here, knowing how much joy it brings you every time. 

“Thought you could use it. Look, here they come.” He says pointing to your window. 

Off in the distance, the small herd of cows were in pursuit of their evening meal and water break. Mamas with their little rambunctious calves trailing behind, trekking along the same path they travel each evening. 

It’s a calming sight. Their heads bobbling with each dramatic step. Tails whipping over their rear ends to swat away the annoying flies. A few stopping mid trek to look in your direction, letting out a long drawn out moo. Their friendly hello, it’s good to see you again, then back on the move. 

The sky is painted in pinks and purples as the sun dips below the horizon. Your day feeling less shitty as you sit silently in the cab of Joel’s truck. His hand resting on your thigh while his thumb draws soft circles over thick denim seam. 

“Thank you for this. Didn’t realize how much I needed it. I love you, Joel.” You tell him, rolling your head over the headrest in his direction. 

“I did it because I love you, Honey. And s’what I’m here for.” There’s a low rumble in the air as he turns the key over, shifting the truck into drive. “Now, how ‘bouts we head on home and I spend the rest of the evenin’ show you all the other ways I love you?”

“Take me home, Cowboy.” 

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ scenarios | dating billy

♡ fandoms; The Boys

♡ characters; Billy Butcher

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; explicit sexual content

♡ notes; he’s the bane of my existence + love of my life tbh

reader isss implied to be working with Billy and in my mind a supe but i made it ambiguous since i didn’t write a meeting section :v but i love the idea of Billy falling for a supe so much

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

I. Kisses/ PDA

> he doesn’t like PDA…or at least that’s what he claims

> Frenchie and Marv give him shit- and Hughie is so supportive it makes him angrier than the others giving him shit

> but tbh they’re all happy to see him happy, and he knows that somewhere under that thick skull off his

> so when you give him a kiss or hold his hand or hug him in the base he grumbles, but he never pushes you away or actually complains

> and sometimes he’ll haphazardly pull you against him without saying a word, cheeks a bit pink as he mumbles something into your hair

> usually a ‘good job’ if it fits the occasion, otherwise a comment about how his coworkers are idiots

> now undercover, it’s a different story

> everyone is a potential threat then- and even worse, everyone is potentially going to bother you

> if he even gets a whiff of someone looking you over he’s got an arm around your waist and a hand not so subtly on his holster

> if you want to get any actual surveillance done you have to shoo him away so he doesn’t scare anyone off

> and even then he’s checking in way more often than he needs to

> it’s hard to get mad at, because it’s sweet in his stubborn, assholeish way

> and if you don’t care about surveillance it’s easy to get him riled by playing into it

> and then he’ll kiss you hard right in front of whatever chucklefuck was eying you

> “hope he’s enjoying the bleedin’ view”

> he’s a big cuddler when you’re alone- another thing he’d never admit

> but he loves when you snuggle up with your head on his chest, listening to his heart and nearly dozing while he goes through files

> or when you’re exhausted on the van ride home and make sure no one is paying attention as you hold with his hand in the front seat, rubbing his probably bloodied knuckles and pressing soft kisses them

> he likes your little late night rendezvous the best, though

> you’re both bad at sleeping, so most nights in the base he’ll find you in the kitchen near midnight brewing chai

> you’ll be sitting on the counter in one of his shirts and smile brightly despite the bags under your eyes

> and then when he comes over and puts a hand on either side of you, you trap him in your legs

> the kisses are sometimes heated, sometimes chaste

> but either way you enjoy the tea, and spend the rest of the restless night together

II. Sharing a bed

> when you’re all living in hiding, space is tight under the pawnshop

> you’ve both got shitty little twin beds, and he’s always complaining about space

> but the nights are getting cold and the heater barely works, so you hatch your evil scheme

> evil scheme might get giving it too much credit. like way too much

> all you plan on is asking to snuggle and never leaving his bed

> but he’s taking forever to get whatever he’s doing done, and you’re tired

> no biggie, you’ll just crawl in and wait for him so you can ask

> the next thing you know it’s two a.m. and he’s nudging you

> “oi. who said you could be in here?”

> you whine and give him the biggest pout, eyes all hazy from sleep

> and not wearing all that much either

> he sighs but you can hear the smile in his voice “c’mon then love.”

> before you can scooch over he’s pulling you on top of him completely, making you feel tiny on his broad chest

> he tried not to seem too delighted when you’re there again the next night

III. Let’s get kinky

> listen. i swear i don’t think every character has a daddy kink. just all the ones i’m super attached to

> but he canonically referred to himself as daddy and that’s not leaving my brain anytime soon. so.

> he refers to you as so many sweet nicknames- and he likes to pair them with a healthy mix of degradation and praise

> “you’re a filthy fuckin’ whore aren’t yah sweetheart?”

> his default is rough. he’s a frustrated man, and he’s been pent up for a while now

> but you can take it. probably.

> he likes choking. and spanking, he loves when you’re a brat and he can bend you over his knee

> mostly because then he can finger fuck you right then and there when he’s done and make you a complete mess

> if you wear makeup he thinks it’s twice as nice with your lipstick smudged and mascara running down your cheeks

> and you look prettiest to him on your knees, already a bit teary and sucking on his fingers until you’ve earned the real thing

> he wants to breed you so bad it makes him look stupid. (tbh not literally, even if it is possible, but god the dirty talk is so good that it doesn’t matter)

> his favorite position is reverse cowgirl- he loves seeing you whine and slowly ease yourself onto him

> and to me- he’s an ass man lmao, he loves watching it as you bounce on his cock

[philistiniphagottini]

hi i hope you don’t mind my coming back 😅 as i mentioned before i really enjoyed how you wrote my request before! c:

i had this kinda specific idea of something along the lines of a confession that gets rushed along via the ever famous only one bed trope with cloud strife? soft cloud is rare and underrated <3

thank you if you take this on, as always no pressure! all the best!! :D

Hi, welcome back! :D Oh my god yes, we need more soft Cloud, he's such a sweet bean. Thanks for the request, I had a lot of fun writing this. And sorry, I got a little carried away and it's over 2.5k words :P I hope you like it~

cw. fluff

"Sorry, this is all they had left…"

You blinked slowly, eyes drinking in the current predicament both you and your friend, Cloud, had somehow managed to land in. Your eyebrow twitched in irritation as a loud sigh fell from your parted lips, blowing a few stray strands of hair off of your exhausted features. Just great. Of course, the only room left available in this cheap ass motel just so happened to only have one bed in it. Yep, that would be your luck.

Your tired eyes scanned the dimly lit room, the light flickering occasionally as it struggled to stay on. You could empathize. After a tiring day of running errands and fighting off monsters, your lights were struggling to stay on as well. You noted how small the room was and it only caused you further irritation, seeing as how you and Cloud would have to huddle together like mackerel and live on top of each other for the next few hours. But what did you expect for such a cheap price? And there was no way in hell you were sleeping outside again. You had enough fill of outdoor camping to last you a lifetime. With another small huff you gave Cloud a tired look, noticing how the tension in his shoulders had yet to ease since he broke the news. It was highly inconvenient for both of you but it wasn’t his fault. No, you’d just let the owner have an earful in the morning. Right now, you were too exhausted to complain. You just wanted sleep.

"It’s fine, Cloud" you said, a small smile tilting your lips as you tried to ease his worries. "It’s not your fault."

He nodded along to your words but a pensive frown still tugged at his lips, eyebrows pinched together as he silently chewed on his lips. It was obvious something was bothering him but you decided not to push it further. Instead, you dropped your bag at the foot of the bed and proceeded to kick your shoes off.

"Well, we could complain about this all night but it’s probably better to just get some rest" you stated.

Your eyes flickered back to where Cloud was. He had yet to move from the door. You sat at the edge of the bed, the springs creaking loudly in protest as your heavy boots hit the floor with a dull thud.

"Could you close the door?" you asked.

Cloud finally stirred from his thoughts at the sound of your voice. "Huh? Uh…sure."

He stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. He dropped his bag beside yours as his eyes scanned the room. There really wasn’t a lot of floor space left and he was starting to regret booking a room here for the night. He should have tried to find somewhere else. Though, he doubted you would have been too pleased with that idea. You had claimed that if you had to stay seated on his bike for even one more mile you were going to hurl. His eyes flickered in your direction as you scooted further onto the bed, deciding to settle one side as you rearrange the pillows to your liking. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, heart racing in his ears as his cheeks started to burn. He didn’t know if his poor heart would be able to handle this tonight. Having you sleep so close next to him, barely any room between your bodies. He was pretty sure if that happened the massive crush he had on you was going to inevitably get so much worse after tonight.

Cloud continued to stand at the foot of the bed awkwardly, debating whether he could actually huddle up into a ball on the floor and sleep comfortably. His attention snapped back to you when you cleared your throat.

"What are you doing?" you asked.

Cloud opened his mouth to speak but he decided to close it. He gathered his thoughts, eyes flicking nervously between you and the floor as he finally spoke up.

"I think I should sleep on the floor tonight" he mumbled softly.

You rolled your eyes so hard they almost disappeared into the back of your head. "No, you won’t."

Cloud’s frown only deepened. His lips parted but you cut him off before he could argue with you.

"You are not sleeping on that shitty floor tonight. There’s no room for you down there. Just take your gear off and get into bed."

"But-"

"I don’t want to hear some bullshit about you trying to be considerate, Cloud" you continued. "We’re grown ass adults; we can sleep in the same bed without it being weird."

Cloud’s posture was still tense, like he was anticipating an attack from an unknown source. You offered him a soft smile.

"I promise I won’t bite" you added with a teasing remark.

Cloud scowled softly as he waved his hand at you dismissively. "Alright, alright. I get your point. Man, you’re stubborn."

"Takes one to know one~"

His lips twitched into a ghost of a smile as he turned his back to you, proceeding to take off his clunky gear and settle in for the night. His heart would not stop racing, fingers trembling as he undid the various clasps and buckles of his uniform, both elation and trepidation making his blood boil beneath his skin. And if it wasn’t for his own heartbeat droning so loudly in his ears, he might have been able to pick up on your own rambunctious heartbeat threatening to break free from your chest. You were silently screaming on the inside as you buried yourself under the covers of the blanket, mind swirling with thoughts that kept spinning like a record so fast that it made you dizzy. You started picking at the lint under your fingernails to try and keep your mind occupied but it wasn’t working. You were going to spend the night with the man you liked and it made your head feel giddy. You had been friends with Cloud for a very long time and somewhere along the way, your feelings for him shifted. What started out with mutual respect and pure platonic feelings bloomed into pure affection and ever longing yearning. You didn’t know if your poor heart was going to be able to take it this evening, having Cloud so close to you.

Once the last of Cloud’s gear clattered to the floor he straightened his back with a long sigh. He was tired so tired and sore from such a stressful day, yet the tension in his muscles refused to ease. He doubted he would get any rest tonight sleeping next to you. He stepped towards the door, making sure that it was locked before securing his weapon close to the side of the bed he would be sleeping on.

"I’m going to turn the light out now" he said.

You hummed in response, eyes falling shut when the light switched off, bathing the room in darkness. You tried your best to remain still, hands clasped tightly to your chest as your ears perked up to the sound of Cloud moving to the other side of the bed. Your pulse spiked rapidly as the mattress abruptly dipped, springs creaking as he settled in beside you. He hesitated for a moment but decided to join you under the covers, his back almost touching yours as he subconsciously shuffled closer to the warmth your body provided. You could feel him so close to you and you almost rolled away as your heart threatened to leap out of your throat. But if you did that, you’d just end up on the floor. This bed could just barely fit both of you on it. At least it was decently comfortable. Not the best but you’ve slept on worse. And at this point, anything was better than the cold scent of dirt and the unforgiving earth beneath you.

"Goodnight" you whispered into the darkness.

"Night" Cloud replied softly.

You buried your face further into your pillow, body curling further into yourself as you tried to focus on sleep and not the warm body that was resting right behind you. The soft chirps of crickets filled your ears, accompanied by Cloud’s light breaths tumbling from his slightly ajar lips. The darkness was a small comfort as your eyes felt heavy and you tried to get your wandering mind to sleep for the night.

Five minutes passed.

Then ten.

Then fifteen minutes passed.

Your eyes cracked open as an irritated huff stirred in the back of your throat. You fidgeted, moving your body to try and fall into a more comfortable position. Your eyes slipped close once more as you nudged your cheek against your pillow. Another five minutes eventually passed. A long sigh blew out your lips as you flipped onto your back, eyes peeling open to stare at the ceiling above your head, the old fan spinning above you barely even blowing a gentle breeze in your direction.

"Cloud, you awake?"

He hummed in response.

"I can’t sleep."

"Me neither" he admitted.

You turned your head in his direction, a frown pulling at your lips as you stared at his back. His shoulders were almost pressed against his ears, tension winding tight in his muscles as his body refused to relax next to you.

"Are you okay?" you asked. "You’ve been tense ever since we got here."

Cloud nodded; strands of his wild blond hair ruffled against the pillow supporting his head.

"I’m fine."

You didn’t believe him. You rolled over to face him, your breathing wavering as you slowly reached out to him. His spine went rigid as you placed the warm palm of your hand between his shoulder blades, his skin erupting with goosebumps at your mere touch. You slowly ran your hand along the ridges of his spine, trying to soothe the ache in his muscles.

"Come on, you can tell little ol’ me" you spoke gently. "Something is clearly bothering you."

"No, it isn’t" Cloud denied.

"Yes, it is" you prodded, your fingers poking at his arm. "Tell me."

"No."

You scowled. "Cloud-"

He couldn’t take it anymore. The soft melody of your voice whispering so soothingly next to his ear, the soft dulcet tones of concern lacing your voice. The way your hand felt on his body, accompanied by the trace of your fingertips. His head felt like it was going to explode, heart swelling with so much affection that it all came spilling out.

"I like you" he blurted.

As soon as the words left his lips, he wished he could pluck them out of the air and shove them back down his throat. That was not supposed to come out. This was not at all how he imagined he would confess to you. Any scenario but this one. Perhaps you hadn’t heard him? But that thought was quickly dashed. Your silence spoke volumes.

You fell eerily still behind him, the ministrations of your hand pausing. You stared at the back of his head in disbelief as every single thought in your head came to a screeching halt. Did you hear him right? Surely you didn’t. There was no way Cloud thought of you more than just a friend…right? Your tongue darted over your dry lips as you swallowed the lump in your throat, the gears in your brain working overtime to start moving again.

"I…huh?"

That was the only response that could work its way out of your mouth. You were frozen stiff, eyes wide and ready to pop out of your skull. Cloud shifted, slowly turning over to face you. Even in the darkness, you could see the bright shade of pink that dusted his cheeks and crept up to the tips of his ears. His eyes flickered around nervously, refusing to settle on one part of your face and instead focusing on any minute twitch in your expression. He sighed. You had obviously heard him and there wasn’t any going back now. He had to be brave and take the plunge. His hands slowly reached out and grabbed yours, fingers curling around your wrists and pressing against the sensitive pulse of your wrists. Your skin was boiling as he looked down at you with lidded eyes, lips so close you could almost taste him on the tip of your tongue. You did not pull away and he saw it as a sign to press forward.

"I said I like you" Cloud repeated, his voice much softer and intimate than before. "I have liked you for a long time now."

The tension in the air was so thick now you could cut it with a knife. The longer you continued to stare into Cloud’s bright eyes, the more you realised how sincere his words were. He wasn’t joking. He was serious. If you were dreaming right now, then you didn’t want to wake up. His warm breath tickled your skin as you took a deep breath, his familiar scent curling in your lungs and making your chest feel light. His fingers rubbed against the sensitive skin of your wrists; the pads of his fingertips lightly calloused from years of fighting. You were silent for a long time as Cloud patiently waited for you to pick the right words out of your head to respond. Much like his confession, the next words you spoke were rushed out on impulse.

"Kiss me."

Cloud blinked rapidly in response, the flush of his skin getting hotter as he stared down at you.

"Huh?"

Now it was his turn to act dumbfounded.

"Kiss me" you repeated, softly; slowly.

Your eyes lingered on his lightly chapped lips, the soft curve so enticingly inviting. The emotions inside of you were ready to boil over and you weren’t sure if you were going to start laughing or crying from the intense swell you felt inside your chest. You sucked down a sharp breath as Cloud suddenly leaned in and closed the distance between your lips. His lips were a lot softer than you imagined and before you knew it, you were kissing him back. The contact between you was much too brief for your liking. When Cloud pulled away to allow you to catch your breath, you were eager for more.

"Again?"

He obliged and placed another chaste kiss on your lips. Your eyes were lidded when he pulled back.

"Again."

You barely got the words out before your lips were smothered by his again. A contented noise stirred in your throat as you threw your arms around his neck, body pressing and tangling closer to one another in the passionate embrace. You were so happy that words couldn’t describe. It felt like a weight had been lifted off you, months and months of one-sided pining finally being reciprocated in a way you didn’t think possible. You didn’t know if you could pull away once you got a taste. The tension in Cloud’s body finally eased as his arms coiled around your waist and squeezed you tight, his excitement and relief of your acceptance expressed in the way he pressed his lisp to yours, his awkwardness slowly fading with each small brush.

"I like you too" you suddenly said; realising that you actually hadn’t verbally confirmed your feelings.

Cloud smiled softly as he pecked your lips once more. He didn’t need to hear you say it. All your affection for him had already been poured into your breath-taking kisses.

"I’m glad" he replied, lips tasting the shape of your mouth.

He squeezed your waist tightly, grip nearly bruising as the air was slowly squeezed from your lungs. You couldn’t contain your breathless giggles. You nuzzled your face against his, the tip of your nose brushing along the bridge of his as you smiled softly.

"I think we have a lot of lost time to catch up on" you said.

[damiansgoodgirll]

I just read your soft for you and I love it. If it’s okay can I request something? :)

So it’s a Damian Priest and it’s for like a plane ride and the night at the hotel and the reader is super tired from jet lag? (If you can’t that’s fine if you can thank you!)

damian priest x reader

a little angst, sorry not sorry.

i changed it a little cause i’ve never experienced jet lag, i hope you like it anyway!

stay the night

“why don’t you stay the night?” you heard damian asking you softly.

“uh?”

“i asked, why don’t you stay with me tonight? in my room?” he asked again “you’re hotel is way too far from the arena and from the airport and it’s too late, we are in new orleans and i don’t like you going around late at night in a city you barely know” he suggested.

you got booked last time for the show in new orleans. in all honesty, you didn’t even want to be there. yes you were the champion but hunter promised you full two weeks of complete relax, away from the ring and from the cameras.

not even three days later, you received a call from hunter himself saying that they needed you in a match against bailey in new orleans.

you could tell that he was sorry and he kept apologising from disturbing you from your vacation so you said yes.

your manager booked you a last minute flight and lucky for you, you got the same one as the other wrestlers were in, but the hotel was way too far away and you were there all by yourself. it wasn’t the ideal, especially not knowing the city very well.

plus you hate being on planes late at night. even if it was a short flight, you felt uncomfortable with everyone around you sleeping and you not being able to close your eyes, no matter how tired you were.

damian had been a great travel buddy. he was the one next to you and you thanked whoever bought your ticket because you never got this lucky. you shared some music together and some jokes, trying to not make any noise.

“are you sure? i don’t wanna bother…” you said.

“it’s not a bother at all…i can take you to your hotel in the morning when it’s all sunny and warm…but i’ll feel better if you stayed here…at least you’re not alone…”

“are you sure?” you asked him again.

truth was you had the biggest crush on him and even if you had plenty of sleepovers together, you never shared the same hotel room and that was making you a little nervous.

“yes…you’re my best friend, it’s like your sleeping at my house, but instead we are in a fancy hotel room where we can order all the room service we want” he said and you agreed.

best friend.

it made your heart clench.

you knew someone like him wouldn’t like someone like you but in the deep of your heart you still hoped something could change.

but instead of being all moody about it, you were too tired to even keep your eyes open from the landing to the arrival at the hotel. you remembered barely of it. you knew your legs were walking for you but your mind was somewhere else.

“you awake princesa?” damian smirked when he saw you falling into the comfort of the hotel bed.

“uh?” you replied.

“clearly not…” he smiled.

“i’m so tired dam…you know how much i hate flying at night…was it really necessary? like we could have taken a bus or i could have driven…” you complained and damian smiled at your cute childish behaviour.

“okay you should definitely got to bed…i’m gonna take a quick shower and then i’m gonna joining you…those blankets look very comfortable…” he smiled before entering the bathroom and locking himself in it.

suddenly you were awake.

damian was used to sleep almost naked. you knew it because you’ve been at his house so many times but you’ve never actually slept together. it was always you in the guest room or you falling asleep on his couch.

but you were just friends right?

what could possibly go wrong?

your heart missed a a few beats when you saw him coming out of the bathroom wearing just a grey pair of sweatpants. no t-shirts. nothing at all. just his chest full of tattoos and nothing more.

you saw him like that multiple times when he was training or when he was in the ring but having him so close and so naked was making your head spinning.

“you still awake?” he asked while he got comfortable under the covers.

“uhm…yes”

“i thought you were tired” he teased.

“i was…” you whispered.

“what are you thinking about princesa?” he asked, slowly turning his head towards you.

“nothing important…”

“it has to be important if it kept you awake all the time i was showering” he laughed. how you loved his laugh.

“really…nothing important…just the match i think…”

“you nervous?”

“no…i…” how you were supposed to say that you liked him. how you were supposed to stay calm when he was only a few inches from you, half naked. how were you supposed to stay quiet when his hot breath was all over your face “i think i’m just going to sleep now…”

“in your clothes?” he asked.

and then you remembered. your suitcase was sent to the hotel you were supposed to be that night so you were left with only your small harry potter backpack, that contained anything but clothes.

“shit…”

“you can wear something of mine…” he got up and borrowed you a clean t-shirt “here…i don’t have a second pair of pants but it should be long enough to cover your - well you know it” he almost smirked.

“oh thank you…” your cheeks were red and you were feeling all hot inside. you moved quickly, entering the bathroom and changing into his clothes. the t-shirt smelled like him and all you wanted to do was cry because you wanted something like that every day, not just today. you wanted to sleep next to him every night and waking up with him between your arms - or legs - you wanted a life with him.

but you couldn’t have it.

“here you are…” he smiled when he saw you wearing his shirt. in fact it wasn’t that long and damian was amused in seeing you trying not to move so fast, otherwise your ass would be on display.

“thank you, again, for everything…” you slowly got into bed and closed your eyes.

“y/n…?” he called you.

“mh?”

“good night…” he gently kissed your head and turned off the light.

a tear slowly fell from your eyes.

his arm moving to your hip and resting over there.

what looked normal for him, looked everything for you, everything you wished for but you couldn’t have.

[cryscendo]

Hello Crys! 💫

How about: klaine + things you said when you thought i was asleep?

thank you so much for the request! both you and @bitbybitwrites sent me the same prompt so here it is for both of you <3

i went with something canon compliant and a bit angsty for this prompt. it discusses blaine’s thought regarding his relationship with kurt during the second half of season 5. i hope you like it !

Pairing: Kurt Hummel/Blaine Anderson

Rating: G

Word Count: 841

Prompt: 12 - things you said when you thought i was asleep

if you would like to send me a prompt, you can do so here!

fic can be read below the cut <3

Kurt got home late a lot these days.

He knew that Blaine had a hard time with it. He moved to New York largely to be closer to Kurt and now Kurt was too busy to really devote much time to him.

It wasn’t anybody’s fault. Kurt just had a heavy course load this semester, and paired with his Vogue internship and diner job, he hardly had a moment to himself, much less a moment to focus on Blaine. Many evenings were spent with Kurt coming home, deciding something simple for the two of them to eat, showering, and then passing out the moment his head hit the pillow.

Blaine tried to never complain about it, but Kurt could tell it bothered him.

Tonight was especially a let-down. Kurt came home from work and had discovered that their roommates would be out for the evening. Like, all their roommates. And normally, this was a fantastic thing seeing as they hardly found time to spend together with just the two of them. But just as luck would have it, Kurt was too exhausted to be able to take advantage of their personal time in any meaningful way.

“I’m sorry, Blaine, but I haven’t really had a moment to breathe in about twelve hours,” he explained apologetically, “I really just need some sleep.”

“Oh, yeah! Of course! I get it, yeah, get some rest, honey,” Blaine replied encouragingly, offering Kurt a chaste kiss of the cheek. He was trying to not let his disappointment show, and Kurt could appreciate that.

It wasn’t until that evening that Kurt really got to see the other end of Blaine’s thoughts.

He didn’t mean to listen in, not really. He really was prepared to pass out and be dead to the world until his alarm clock devastatingly went off the next morning.

But somewhere in between the haze between wakefulness and sleep, Blaine started to speak. Not to Kurt, or rather, not in a way that Kurt was ever supposed to hear it. He sat up in bed and sighed — Kurt felt the bed jostle even despite Blaine’s efforts to not disturb him.

“Sometimes I feel like you don’t really want me around,” Blaine muttered into the darkness, and yeah, Kurt was definitely not supposed to be hearing this. A warm hand ran through his hair gently, carding through in soft strokes. “Ever since I moved to New York, I dunno, I just feel like our relationship is… different somehow.”

Kurt should’ve done something. He should’ve alerted Blaine that he was awake, because these thoughts that Blaine was sharing were something personal and private.

Against his remarkably better judgment, Kurt didn’t move.

“I think a lot of it is probably my fault,” he confessed to who he believed to be no one. “I know you say that you forgive me, and I do believe you. But I feel like some part of you still holds it against me. Not that I blame you.” Kurt heard Blaine sniffle and wondered if he was crying. Then, the hand in his hair moved as Blaine grazed his thumb along Kurt’s cheek. It was a sweet, loving gesture, but it took a bit for Kurt to not react to it in a way that would reveal he was not actually asleep.

“I should probably tell you all these things when you’re actually awake, huh? I’m just scared, I guess. I don’t know if it’s obvious yet, but I’m not really that great at this whole relationship thing. I feel like when we first met, I always knew exactly what you needed. Now, I’m not so sure.” Blaine took a breath and finally pulled his hand away.

“I think… I think I just need you to need me,” Blaine eventually admitted, and even the way Blaine spoke felt weighted. “It’s selfish as hell, I know, but I liked feeling like you needed me. You were so scared and alone and needed someone to protect you and I loved being that person for you. But now you don’t, and… and I’m still trying to figure out how to be okay with that.”

Blaine’s voice broke and Kurt felt his chest constrict at the sound. “I love the man you are, but I can’t help but miss the boy you were. You’d probably be pissed if you heard me say that.” Blaine let out a soft laugh, but it was devoid of any real humor. “It’s so much easier to say these things when you’re asleep.”

After that, Blaine fell into silence. It felt like ages, but he eventually resettled into bed, pressing a kiss to Kurt’s temple before finally cuddling up next to him. Blaine was warm, but Kurt couldn’t help a chill that sat deep in his bones from everything he just heard — every word Blaine wanted to say to him but couldn’t find the strength to say it. With his arm wrapped protectively around Kurt’s waist, he murmured one final thing before drifting off to sleep.

“G’night, Kurt. I love you.”

[sarahowritesostucky]

Manip GIF by @odetolove95

📖"I Prefer Girls Who're Not Afraid to Cry"

That’s what Chris does - he worries. He worries that someday someone will catch on to what they do, what they’ve been doing for years. That someday, someone will be in the wrong place at the wrong time, with the wrong intentions, and snap a picture of something that can’t be explained away as an interaction between friends and costars.

Rated: Mature

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Chris Evans (Sebastian x ofc)

Word Count: 4439

Tags: light dom/sub, dom Sebastian Stan, Sub Chris Evans, slight internalized homophobia, secret relationship, discussions of threesomes and polyamory, flirting, touching through clothes, teasing

Summary: Sebastian and Chris reconnect to discuss the possibility of sharing a woman and living their life in the open.

A.N.: this isn't shading Alba at all. It was written when Chris had just barely started to date her.

📖"I Prefer Girls Who're Not Afraid to Cry"

Part one highly recommended to be read first!

Sebastian’s in the middle of taking a dump when he hears his phone out in the kitchen. “Ah, crap.”

(Literally.)

But then the familiar ringtone registers, and he calms down, knowing that he’s not missing an important business call from his agent or some director. He craps in peace.

He brews himself another coffee and takes it into the livingroom, sinking down on his couch with a happy sigh. He checks his phone. There’s a text from Bo already. He’d stuck her in a town car not thirty minutes ago, with a kiss and a murmured command of, “Let me know when you’re home safe.” 

Given her proclivity for being a good girl, Sebastian is unsurprised to find her sweet and adorably obedient: “Safe and sound. Last night was amazing 😘😊,” waiting in their text thread.

"Good girl," he murmurs. He's still smiling over her, as he pulls up the last call received and taps the screen to call him back.

He picks up on the second ring. “Hey.” He sounds breathless over the line, must be working out. There’s some new project he’s signed on for, some historical drama with shirtless scenes.

“Hey,” Sebastian says. “You busy? I can call back.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Hang on.” There’s movement on the other end of the line, and a few seconds later it sounds like his face is pressed more firmly to the receiver. He’s settled somewhere, and his breath isn’t labored anymore.

“Are you still in the city?”

“Yeah. They’ve got three still in the running for the female lead, want me to do chemistry reads to narrow it down. Casting needs me for another few days." There's a pause. "... I thought I might stay a bit longer, though. See the sights.”

Sebastian hums, pleased. “You should.” In the distant background, he thinks he can hear weight plates being moved around. “Are you ... are you actually at a gym?”

His sigh crackles over the line, displeased. “The fifty-third street Equinox.”

“Wow.” Sebastian snickers. “And look: you’ve survived!”

“Don’t jinx it. Nobody’s bothered me. Yet.”

Sebastian still laughs about it. He doesn’t mind public gyms himself, but then again, he’s much more of a showoff (and not nearly as famous). “Do you want to go to lunch?” he asks, eyes slipping closed, digging his skull back into the couch cushion. “I’ve got something I want to talk to you about.”

“Sorry, can’t. I’ve got meetings all afternoon.”

“Pfff. 'Course.” There goes Sebastian's excuse for skipping his own workout. He pokes at his abs. “I need to go for a run.”

Over the line, there’s the sound of water being gulped, and then a hopeful, “Dinner though?”

“Sure. Where?”

“Well, I was thinking that dark place. Georgie’s?”

Sebastian bites his lip, tickled at what he knows that means. Georgia’s is an obscenely expensive and very private Italian joint. It’s got dark corners, discreet staff, and cozy leather booths. … And it’s less than two blocks from Sebastian’s building. Still, he pretends to complain, teasing, “You don’t ask for much, do ya, Evans?”

Chris chuckles lowly, and the sound goes straight to Sebastian’s cock. “What, you think I’m easy, Stan?”

“I know you are.”

“Gotta make you work for it. I want you to wine and dine me.”

That’s not all you want me to do, Sebastian thinks. “I think I can manage that. Dessert after?"

"Always."

That low voice, purred into the receiver, is enough to have Sebastian's cock pulsing in interest. He sinks lower on the couch, right hand roaming over his leg, up to the crease of his inner thigh. “Eight o’clock?” he asks, cupping himself. Maybe he’ll jerk off before he runs.

“You damn Europeans and your middle of the night dinner times.”

“Shut up and come get cultured,” he says, throwing on an accent thicker than any he’s naturally spoken with in decades. It makes Chris giggle, which lights Sebastian up. “Seven,” he concedes, and Chris agrees. Neither one of them mentions the fact that they're going to wind up back at Sebastian’s place, after; that 'dessert' is just a euphemism for what they get up to together once they're alone. Sebastian all but confirms it when he says, “You can stay?”

“Yeah. The night.”

“The week,” he corrects.

Chris stays silent, and Sebastian can practically hear him worrying. “Well … I’ve got all my luggage, though.”

“So? Bring it.”

“Production’s put me up at the Conrad …”

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “You gonna turn me down for the friggin' Conrad? Naw. Check out of your hotel, bring your luggage here. I don’t get to see you enough. I miss you.”

“Seb,” Chris says, sounding tempted, but wary. “What if somebody—”

“You haven’t been doing press, so nobody knows you’re in town. Come on. Have you even seen cameras?”

“... No,” he admits, still sounding worried. But that’s what Chris does: he worries. He worries that someday someone will catch on to what they do, what they’ve been doing, off and on, for years. That someday, someone will be in the wrong place at the wrong time, with the wrong intentions, and snap a picture of something that can’t be explained away as an interaction between friends and costars. Last year, Chris' agent had sat him down and said something to him about it.

But Sebastian just calmly commands him again, “Come stay with me. It’ll be fine.”

“... Okay.”

His heart melts at the give in Chris’ voice, the trust. He’s a bit like Bohdana, in that regard. Sometimes Chris just needs to let it all go and let somebody else be in charge for a little while. And Sebastian knows how hard it is for him to do that, knows what it means, that Chris lets him be the one he surrenders to. “Hey,” he says fondly. “Be brave, little toaster. I’ll see you tonight.”

Chris snorts, Sebastian hums, and they end the call that way. Sebastian closes his eyes and sips the rest of his coffee with his hand still on his dick, feeling peaceful, considering jacking off. It’s probably nearing noon by now. He should go get his workout over with, but he isn’t in the mood to rush, too wrapped up in his thoughts about Chris. And Bo.

He’d bid her farewell slowly and lazily. She’d been so sweet in his bed that morning, all mussed hair and shy smiles and soft curves. Sebastian had thoroughly enjoyed the gentle, intimate process of kissing her awake and cuddling her between the sheets, speaking in decibels only used by lovers, reassuring her that she was perfect and that what they’d done was good, and right, that he wasn’t going to discard her now that he'd had her—all things that he'd known she needed to hear.

It’s been a long time since Sebastian’s been with a woman so beautifully needy. Bo’s no virgin. He can see that she clearly knows what she likes. But there’s a virginal quality to her that tells Sebastian she’s obviously never been treated right by a man, and she’s never been handled by one at all. That doesn’t make him mad or indignant on her behalf. Rather, it excites him.

Excites him, because that means he gets to be her first in more ways than one. He’s thinking about the sight of her laid out on his bed and whimpering so sweetly, as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajama pants. He plays with his dick lightly, getting harder, remembering his time with Bohdana last night and imagining how it would’ve been if Chris had been there with them.

Would he just want to watch, that first time? Sebastian thinks maybe he would. Chris is hesitant sometimes. He’s careful, mindful of other people’s judgements and expectations, mindful of himself. If Bo wasn’t overtly, aggressively sexual with him right out of the gate (which she likely wouldn’t be), then Sebastian knows Chris would move to the side, sit in a chair and watch, eventually touching himself while Sebastian took Bo apart on the bed.

He jerks off to the fantasy, picturing something very close to what really happened last night. Only in this version, some of his attention would be on Chris, too; glancing over at him while his hand is between Bo’s legs, smirking and tossing her panties his way, looking straight at him as he fingers her to climax. Maybe he'd decide to eat her out and make her come that way, too. He knows he'd go over to Chris, then; kiss him with his face still messy, give him a taste of her. Oh, and he can just imagine the look Chris would get on his face, if Seb could make her squirt in front of him. Fuck, he thinks, he could even drag Chris over and make him watch up close. He could teach him.

He comes with a low grunt, most of the mess contained inside his pajama pants. He pulls them off and wipes himself with a sated sigh, then goes to chuck them in the hamper. He starts the shower water running and shoots off a quick text to Don to see if he’s free for a run. Sebastian always pushes a little harder than he does when jogging alone. He hops in the shower, already in an excellent mood.

This thing with Chris, this “thing” that they don’t put a name to, has been going on for a long time. Sometimes Sebastian forgets just how long. (How many years ago were they shooting Winter Soldier? Ten? Jesus, they’re getting old.)

Ten years since that first kiss: middle of August in a trailer in Atlanta, boiling temperatures, boiling tensions, and Chris shoving him away with a “What the fuck man? I’m not gay!” 

Eight years since that second kiss: another trailer, a better kiss, this time with Sebastian so bulked up that he could easily wrestle Chris’ anger away.

Seven years since that first night: Salt Lake Comic Con, Chris busting into his hotel room, drunk and belligerent and falling to his knees to suck him off.

Yeah, Sebastian thinks, it’d turned into a regular thing after Salt Lake. So, seven. Seven years of fitting in moments together. Between cities, movies, relationships, the demands of friends and fans and family. Using their phones when the months upon months of separation pile up—texting the safe stuff and snapchatting the not so safe stuff. Missing each other but never admitting it, and certainly never saying I Love You. They live two separate lives, lives that don’t have space for them to make their “thing” any more than it is. Certainly not a relationship.

Sexuality’s a spectrum, and he and Chris each have their place somewhere on it. Sebastian knows they both fall way closer to the straight end of that spectrum than most men who’re sleeping with other men do, but not far enough to not warrant caution. Because being gay isn’t conducive to what they do for a living.

Oh, Hollywood is very accepting of those things socially, but the fastest way to kill a career as a leading man in film is to announce that you’re into dick. Roles dry up fast once you’re openly gay. It’s not homophobia, it’s marketing. No director is going to cast a guy for a blockbuster role if the audience can’t buy him as straight. Action, romance, and even in most drama films; sex is what’s being sold. Straight sex, to straight people, and a leading man is the main product. Women need to be able to picture themselves with him, men need to be able to picture themselves as him. That’s the business.

It’s something both Sebastian and Chris have had to come to grips with. Girlfriends but not wives are always encouraged. Hell, Chris’ agent even sets him up on the occasional date. Emily is a little more hands off with Sebastian, thank goodness. But she's made comments in the past about all the gay roles he’s taken on in his work— “One is fine, two starts to look suspicious, three’s a pattern," has been sure to let him know that he’d better be visibly pursuing women in the meanwhile. So he’s gotten into the habit of dating models. It’s helped to increase his sex appeal and cement him as a desirable lead for films, or so says Emily. Sebastian gets it, but it’s still annoying to hear his manager talk it up with such importance. He likes to think he gets roles because he’s a good actor. Imagine that.

He can’t even remember how many times Chris used to call him, back in the early days, upset and saying that they needed to stop doing what they were doing. An … interpretable picture had come out that showed the two of them embracing at a party. Now they’re careful. They’ve crafted a narrative and fed the media enough to ensure that they’re depicted as best friends, born from over a decade spent making movies together. Magazines print it, YouTube has compilation videos of it. No other pictures have ever come out.

Sebastian stands outside the restaurant and waits. He spots Chris coming down the sidewalk and smiles widely. They haven’t seen each other in months. Chris’ beard is gone.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

He can’t pull him in and kiss him like he wants to. He keeps his hands shoved in his pockets as they greet each other warmly. “Should we go in?” Chris asks, eyes roving up and down Sebastian, taking him in. “You look good.”

“Look who’s talking, Mr. Sexiest Man Alive,” Sebastian says, because he knows it’ll make him blush. It does.

Chris’ cheeks get gloriously pink and he shoves Sebastian’s shoulder as they go through the restaurant’s doors, laughing and telling him to shut the fuck up. The hostess gets a little wide-eyed when she realizes who’s standing in front of her. Sebastian’s not sure she knows who he is, but she definitely recognizes Mr. 2022. She can’t peel her eyes from Chris, and she gets real smiley, real fast, leading them back to the darkest, most tucked away booth in the house when Chris winks at her and requests 'someplace private'. “Your server will be right with you,” she gushes, seeming almost hesitant to go back to her hostessing duties. It’s cute, and it gives Sebastian more fodder for teasing once she finally does retreat.

“Gonna miss the beard though,” he muses, looking Chris over. He looks younger without it, always does. They settle in and ask the server for their usual; a bottle of wine and every appetizer on the menu. Sebastian was on chicken breast protocol not too long ago, so it’s a relief to be ordering calamari and bread and snails soaked in butter. He talks about the muscle he’s been able to put back on since his last role, how he thinks the weight loss aged him and he’s considering Botox. Chris talks about the table reads he’s in town for and the film he’s been forcing himself into public gyms for. He votes No for Botox.

“Seventeen-seventies,” Sebastian muses, once their food has come and he’s fishing out an escargot from its shell. “So like, breeches and wigs? Big puffy shirts?” He smirks across the table. “I can just picture it.”

Chris shakes his head at him, but he’s smiling. He likes being teased by Sebastian, and Sebastian knows this. “I’m getting nervous about it,” he confides. “I have to do an accent, which you know is not my forte. Then there’s the sex scenes.”

Sebastian can sympathize. He’s also shit at accents (other than those from Soviet bloc countries), and he’s done plenty of nudity. Full frontal, even. There’s really no way to make it not awful. And sex scenes are even worse: A film crew staring at your asscheeks and a bandaid taped over your junk while you pretend to give it to some chick. Sebastian would rather scoot around Athens naked a dozen times before having to do imitation thrusts. “There’ll be an intimacy coordinator,” he tries to console. “Talk to them.”

“Eh, they’re for the women.”

“They’re for everybody,” Sebastian corrects. “I’ve had my dick out enough to know.”

“Yeah you have.”

He points his teeny escargot fork across the table, stern. “They’re not just for the women.”

Chris reaches for his wine. “Speaking of women,” he segues. Their table is very secluded and the surrounding area dark, so much so that personal conversation feels safe, tucked away as they are in their little corner. “I ah, I broke it off with Alba.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows raise. “Oh?” He’d forgotten her name, but knows who Chris is talking about. “Why?” he asks, trying not to let his enthusiasm show. “I thought you liked her.”

Chris shrugs, looking down about it. “I did. I do. She’s sweet, but she’s borderline Gen Z, you know? She made some comment about Titanic being a “vintage” movie. It was too much.”

Sebastian nods. He gets it. And even though he’s happy to hear he has Chris all to himself again, he’s also sorry for him, because he knows how much the other man wants love, wants a family. They’ve never talked about their futures with other people. It’s just been an unspoken assumption on both their parts that eventually they’ll end up married with kids, no longer able to accommodate their “thing.”

But that’s part of this new idea that’s been percolating in the back of Sebastian’s brain. It’s not concrete, just a possibility, but being with Bo has put the idea into his head that maybe he could have his cake and eat it too, and maybe so could Chris. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” he says, forcing himself to be bold. He meets Chris’ eyes. “Women, that is.”

“Oh yeah, how’d it go with that ah, that model you were seeing?” he asks, forced levity in his tone.

It makes Sebastian want to reach over and take his hand. Instead, he nudges their feet together under the table. “Hey.” He waits for Chris to meet his eyes again. “Bohdana,” he reminds gently. He hasn’t given Chris many details, but they have a policy of always telling each other about who they’re sleeping with. “She’s good. I really like her. She stayed over last night.”

Chris smiles. He’s trying. “That’s great, man.” He looks down again, sips his wine.

“Chris, look at me.”

He keeps his gaze on the table, focuses on choosing another few pieces from their various appetizers. “So, it’s getting serious?”

“Hey,” Sebastian says quietly, stern. “I told you to look at me.” Chris’ eyes snap up. Sebastian shakes his head. “It’s not serious. Not yet.”

“Oh?”

“Yet.” Beneath the table he slides his foot up, rubbing his ankle against Chris’. “She’s sweet,” he murmurs, holding his gaze. “Funny, gorgeous. Just wants a man to take care of her, though she tries not to let it show. And the way she responds to me is …” he trails off, letting the lack of words and his expression do the talking. He can see that Chris gets it. “And I think she wants kids. She’s said a few things in general conversation.”

Chris’ lips tick up. “Sounds like the whole package,” he says, thinking he’s hiding it well. But he’s as see-through as cellophane to Sebastian.

“Not quite. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” He waits, takes a sip or two of his wine before he delves into the idea that’s been taking shape in his mind. He tells him delicately, “I think you should meet her.”

Chris immediately makes a face. “Why?”

“Hear me out.” He knows this has the potential to be a hard sell. “I think you’ll like her. She’s very pretty, you know. Nice skin, brown hair and dark eyes, cute face, petite. Just like you like ‘em.”

Chris is chewing something in his mouth. He chews it round and round, staring, thinking. He swallows and guesses, “... You want a threesome?”

“No. More than that.” Beneath the table, Sebastian slips his loafer off. “I want you to meet her. I think you’ll really like her.”

A shiver visibly runs through Chris’ body when Sebastian’s foot has made it all the way up his thigh, to the apex of his legs. “I don’t know what secret code you think you’re speaking in here, Seb,”

“I want us to share her.”

“Jesus—That’s what I just said."

“Need me to help you with that attitude?” Sebastian purrs. Chris’s eyes widen minutely at the threat, then go heavy-lidded. Sebastian smiles. “Hm?”

“I don’t think, it’d be a good idea,” he says, every word clipped and measured, controlling himself. “I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off. And the way we look at each other? She’d know.”

“That’s the idea,” Sebastian counters, sly. “Chris: we both like women, we both want that life—a family, home, kids. And we want each other. We’ve been separating ourselves into these different pieces, but maybe we don’t have to. Why not do it together? All of it?” Understanding starts to dawn on Chris’ face, and Sebastian nods. “Yes. You and me, and her.”

Chris' lips work a few times, speechless. “You want—”

“I want us to share her. Sexually, romantically, domestically. A life. Together.”

It takes a long few moments. First Chris just blinks at him, and then he scoffs out a mean little laugh, masking his nerves. Sebastian waits. Chris lifts his wine glass and gulps half of it down. He sets it down a little too roughly on the table. “You’ve been on what, two dates with this girl? Have you floated this little plan by her?”

“Six dates. And no I haven’t, but I will. And I think she’ll say yes.”

He scoffs and drinks more wine. He’s acting angry, but Sebastian can see him thinking it over, afraid to get his hopes up. “What about you and me?” he says. “People would know that we’re together. It’s still the same problem.”

Sebastian holds up a finger. “Ah, not quite.”

“How do you figure?”

“First of all, we wouldn’t have to come out about it right away. One of us could go public with her as his girlfriend, and since you and I are best hetero buds, it still wouldn’t be anything unusual for the three of us to be seen together.” Underneath the table, he lifts his leg, using his socked foot to massage Chris’ thigh. “Nothing scandalous. Then, one day—maybe not for years and years, who knows?—but one day, we come out as a throuple.”

Chris’ eyebrows go sky high. “A ‘throuple’?” he repeats.

“That’s what the kids are calling it these days. Polyamory, it’s all the rage.”

The eyebrows come down, replaced by a scowl. “Oh Seb, come on. Be serious,” he groans. The sound cuts off, however, when Sebastian’s foot presses up warningly against his balls.

“I am being serious,” he coos, voice like velvet. “What about that plan doesn’t sound perfect to you?”

Chris licks his lips. “Well she’d have to agree to it.”

“She will.”

“You don't know that. And I haven’t even met her.”

“Actually, you have.” Sebastian grins, excited to reveal this last bit. “She told me about it: how you two ran into each other at the gym.” When he sees that Chris is still confused, he elaborates, “She stumbled into you while you were lifting? You sat her down and force fed her juice and crackers?”

Chris’ lips part as he puts two and two together. “It was a granola bar,” he says weakly, and Sebastian’s heart flares with fondness for him.

“I talked about you with her. Briefly. Told her how you were my best friend, how we're very close." Chris snorts. "And she told me about how she thought you were cute, flirted with you, even gave you her number. I think she felt guilty for the flirting. It was like she was confessing it to me: her lust for another man.” With lighter pressure, he slowly rubs his foot against the crotch of Chris’ pants. His eyes bore into him while he does it, smirking, holding him with his gaze. “You’re getting hard,” he whispers.

“Y-yeah.” Chris looks like he’s really considering Sebastian’s proposal now, the anxiety in his face slowly being replaced by interest, disbelief … and maybe hope. “This is crazy,” he breathes. “Seb ...”

“I know,” Sebastian soothes. “I know it is. But we could do it—have each other, and our woman, and a family. Everything. A certain amount of privacy can be bought, and you have the money for it. Nobody would know until we want them to know. And even then, there’d be no reason for people not to assume it’s a M/F/M arrangement, with that F firmly in between the M’s. He tilts his head and watches as Chris absorbs everything he's saying. Gently, he massages his foot over his dick. Chris shivers. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“... You really think we can pull that off?”

“We’ve crafted a narrative before,” he offers. It’s not like it’s hard. All they’d have to do is act the part when they’re in public, call the paps on themselves when it’s convenient—both things they’ve already been doing for years. “So what do you say? You want to give it a try, come over and meet her one night? Feel her out?”

Chris has a brightness in his eyes as he thinks it through, and soon a smile sparks—hesitant at first, but growing. Under the table, his hand curls over the top of Sebastian’s foot and gives a squeeze, pressing it firmer against his erection. Sebastian moans quietly. Then, to his utter joy, Chris nods and says, “Let’s do it.”

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[bow-of-aros]

Day Four: Hide and Seek

Summary: Look. All Eiffel needs to do is stay quiet enough in order to survive until tomorrow with his dignity intact. He can totally do this.

(Spoiler alert: He absolutely cannot do this.)

-

Hey folks! After a supremely unhelpful poll, I ended up landing on Wolf 359 for this prompt! So this is for everyone who voted for Lovelace and Eiffel! To everyone else, I hope that you still enjoy this last-minute submission <33

-

Okay. Okay okay okay. This is fine! Everything is totally fine.

These were the thoughts flying through Doug Eiffel’s head as he flung himself through the echoing halls of the Hephaestus. Halls that he currently wished would be a little less echoey as a clang sounded when he swung around a corner a little too fast.

He just needs to find somewhere to hide. As long as he can do that, he can stay quiet, and if he can stay quiet, then maybe he won’t die.

Yeah, folks. This is a life-or-death situation.

There’s something stalking him. Always just far enough out of sight that when Eiffel turns his head, there’s nothing there except for the prickling sensation of being watched.

Another corner flies by and he finally sees what he’s been racing toward.

The blessed storage closet.

And it’s not just any storage closet! It’s far enough from any essential room that nobody had ever bothered to actually store anything useful in there. It was mostly stuffed with useless things like loose screws and fire extinguishers.

The point is, it’s where Eiffel goes whenever he wants to avoid a Minkowski rampage, so it’s the perfect spot to wait out any potential catastrophic disasters.

Eiffel throws the door open before frantically scrambling to catch it so it doesn’t slam against the wall because that would be bad. He manages to snag the latch on his fingers before irreversible damage could be wrought.

A quiet click sounds as he eases the door shut, and Eiffel is left in darkness.

“Officer Eiffel? Why exactly are you hiding in the storage closet?”

“OH— Shit! Hera!” Eiffel hisses, nearly sending a box of something probably very loud flying, “Shhhhhh! Not so loud!”

“Uhhhhhhh… Okay?” Hera lowered her voice to a whisper, “Why are you hiding? Does it have something to do with—”

“No! It has nothing to do with anything! I’m being unfairly and unjustly persecuted for no reason! I’m being hunted for sport and if she finds me she’ll tear me limb from limb!”

Hera has this special ability to make even her silence feel judgmental. Eiffel can practically hear the disbelieving eyebrow raise through the whirring of the engine.

“Wow. Unfairly and unjustly. Sounds like a big deal,” Was that a clang? Did Eiffel just hear a clang?! “So I definitely shouldn’t tell Lovelace where you’re hiding, right? Because she’s been giving me some pretty good offers in return for your location.”

“What?! No you can’t tell her!” Eiffel’s pushing the boundaries of what’s considered whispering, but this is important goddammit!

Then, from a distance, “Eiffel? Eiffeeeelllll?”

Oh fuck. She’s here.

“Hera. Hera! You can’t say anything! I’m your best friend.”

Silence.

“I’ll do my work without complaining to you for a whole week!”

“Deal.”

Yeah. Of course.

Eiffel pulls himself behind a shelf, doing his best to breathe as silently as humanly possible. So for a second, he listens for her footsteps, before remembering that they’re on a space station with zero gravity and they don’t have footsteps.

“Come out come out wherever you are! I just wanna have a little chat!”

Ha! Not a chance. Eiffel’s learned the hard way not to trust Lovelace’s little chats. It’s honestly impressive how someone can sound so innocent and so totally evil at the same time.

“I know that you ate the last of the graham crackers on board. You know that those are my favourites!”

She couldn’t know that. Not for sure!

“I know, because you wrote Eiffel wuz here first. Suck it Lovelace! On the box.”

Oh. Yeah.

“So, you can come on out, and we can talk about this like adults. Or,” She pauses, mischief colouring her voice, “I can come find you, and you can suffer the consequences.”

A beat. Two. Then, a disappointed sigh.

“Fine. Have it your way.”

Suddenly, the door whooshes open, and there stands Isabel Lovelace, haloed by the fluorescent lights like some sort of avenging angel.

Eiffel had never been the religious type.

He kicks against the wall, rocketing himself past her with a wild, “YOU’LL NEVER CATCH ME ALI—Nonononono! Lovelace wahahahahait”

He’d barely gotten past her when she caught him around the waist, reeling him in before clawing her hands into his stomach. A tactic that he found very unfair, by the way.

So, he told her exactly that.

“Wait! Shitshitshihihit dohohohon’t! How did you even—” A lightbulb, “Hera you trahahaitor!”

“Who, me?” The traitor’s voice sounded above him, not even trying to sound sympathetic to his plight, “I didn’t say a thing!”

Lovelace snorted, “Yeah, she just flashed the light outside the closet a bunch of times until I got the hint. Not that I needed the help.”

“Yeah, well, I figured that it couldn’t hurt.”

How could they just have a casual conversation while Eiffel is here DYING?! Lovelace has moved one of her hands up to his neck, her fluttering fingers eliciting panicked squeals amidst the cackling.

“Okay! Okayokayokay I’m sohohohorry!”

Lovelace slows, although she doesn’t stop, so Eiffel takes the opportunity to catch his breath a little bit.

“Are you sure?”

“Yehehehes!”

“Are you really sure?”

“I’m reheheheally sure! I prohohomise!”

“But are you really super duper—”

“YES! Yes I’m suhuhure!”

She pauses for a moment, “Hmmmmm. Alright.”

And then she… Doesn’t let go.

This can’t be good.

“Well! I really should be getting to work! Soundwaves to look at, things to communicate with! All in a day’s work for your friendly neighbourhood communications officer.”

Eiffel tries to pry Lovelace’s hands away from him to very little effect. Yeah, that’s just about what he expected.

“You do know that I still need to punish you, right? I mean, you finished my favourite snack.”

“But—”

“And,” She continues as though he hadn’t even spoken, “I did say that there would be consequences if I had to come and find you. Can’t have it going around that I’m not a woman of my word, can I?”

And the hands that had been resting so calmly on his sides dug in, making Eiffel scream in a way that even the Empty Man himself hadn’t managed before falling back into shrieking laughter.

Then, without missing a beat, Lovelace leaned in real close and spoke into his ear,

“Eiffel? Never try to hide from me again.”

And, well, he won’t make a promise that he can’t keep, so he just keeps on laughing.

[reds-fluff-extravaganza]

Caine x reader

Requested over on ao3!

Nightmares were never really a big issue for you when you were back in the real world, since you didn’t get them very often for whatever reason that you weren’t complaining about. However, that’s all changed when you ended up in the digital circus. While you didn’t have nightmares every time you fell asleep, they were more frequent than what you were used to and it did bother you. You didn’t really tell anyone about the nightmares since you figured they would either not care or just brush it off as the digital circus getting to you, so you kept quiet about it.

That is, until one night cycle, you had fallen asleep, or at least, what felt like going to sleep in this world. It had started off as a nice dream, which of course that part you didn’t really remember. The next thing you knew, you were sitting up, your eyes wide with fear as you looked around the room. The worst part about these nightmares was that you couldn’t remember a thing. Sure, you would think that would be the good thing, but it wasn’t always good.

You got up out of your bed and went over to the door, opening it and walking out into the hallway which lead to the others rooms. You closed the door behind you and started walking down the hallway, hoping to find a certain ringmaster along the way. Yes, you were looking for Caine, since you figured you could possibly get some answers behind these constant nightmares you were having, and possibly get some sleep in the process.

“Caine?” You called out, looking around the area you were in as you shoved your hands into your pockets. No response.

“Caine?” You called again, but louder, hoping to get his attention.

“Yes, my dear Y/n?” You flinched a bit as you heard his voice from behind you. You turned to face him, as if relieved to see him there. “Is something the matter, you don’t look too good.”

“Yeah, that’s actually… what I wanted to talk to you about.” You rubbed the back of your head as he moved closer to you, as if inspecting you.

“Very well, let’s go somewhere else.” He grabbed your hand and the next thing you knew, you were in another room, one you had been in a few times when you two would have a chat. You had pulled up one of the nearby chairs and sat down, Caine now across from you.

“Alright, tell me what’s going on.”

“Lately, I’ve been having these nightmares. Most of the time I don’t even remember anything about them, I just wake up with wide eyes, breathing heavy as if I had just been chased by something.”

“I see..”

“I’ve never had this issue before, Caine.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for you, Y/n, the others have not informed me of any nightmares they have had, but! If it makes you feel any better, I could see if I could help make things better for you.” You stood up and went over to him, pulling him into a hug, which caught him off guard.

“Whoa..! Uh, Y/n, are you alright, my dear?”

“I’m fine. What, I can’t hug you? Is that also against your weird terms and conditions or whatever is it?”

“No, not at all, I was just.. not expecting that.” You felt him hug you back, the two of you now sitting in a comfortable silence for a few moments.

“…don’t let the nightmares bother you, Y/n. I will do what I can to help you.”

“Thank you, Caine, I really do appreciate it.”

“Now come on, let’s get you back to your room.”

“…I don’t want to let go, I’m comfortable.” Caine was quiet for a moment, before he picked you up, and the next thing you knew, you were both back in your room.

“I suppose I can stay until you get back to sleep, if that helps you.” You smiled faintly and nodded.

“That would be nice, thank you.”

“Of course, Y/n, I don’t want you, or anyone else really, to suffer from nightmares, but… especially not you.”

“Thanks again, Caine.” You mumbled as you closed your eyes. “I know we don’t really need sleep here, but it does feel nice.”

“It’s no problem.” You felt him lightly pat your head before falling asleep, or at least, the closest thing you can get to sleep in this world.

[soft-persephone]

Your What I Need (An Intentional Accident)

Nick Miller x F!Reader  //  Nick Miller x Black!F!Reader

WC: 1.5k // MDNI // More Nick Miller // Masterlist //

I wrote this with black women in mind but any woman could read it. 

Just a short little blurb of something that crossed my mind one day.

Go to school, get a good job, find a good man, and live happily ever after. That was the model presented to you since you were a child. 

A false promise everyone swore would be your reality.

No one prepared you for the world's outlook on certain women. Not even how other men will position themselves over you for little to nothing in return. 

Derik promised he would never do that to you, but you met online off an app somewhere. 

You already know he’s lying, or there’s something else that hasn’t quite yet reached the surface.

“This is a nice restaurant.” He grit his teeth. “I don’t see what you're complaining about.”

“The waiter has done nothing but look at us in disgust and make slick remarks about the type of people we are and what we can afford.” You whisper yelled back.

“He’s racist, and I don’t want to eat here.” You ripped your napkin out of your lap and threw it in the center of the table, “Fuck this resterant.”

Derik had the nerve to twist his mouth in anger, not even bothering to hide the grinding of his teeth. A habit you had the fortune of witnessing all night and anytime you brought up your successful career and fortune in life. 

“It took me a long time to make this reservation, and even if the staff is shitty, I’d like to stay”

“There’s a big difference between racist and shitty,” you halfway joked, “this  might be your red flag of the night. Perhaps this is my sign to go to the bathroom and not come back.” 

You disagreed on every level, but if this stupid reservation meant that much to him, you’ll stay. You’ve made it a month with him so far. As stubborn as he could be, he wasn't that bad. 

You were as equally as opinionated. 

Which might have been the actual problem. 

“You want to talk about fucking red flags!” He slammed his fist on the table.

“You—“

As soon as he yelled, you grabbed your purse and stood up.

You knew better.

Smacking his teeth, he stood up and reached for you which was more like an aggressive swipe or grab in your direction, but you swiftly jerked your arm closer to your person.

Oh he’s insane. 

“Sit back down!” He hissed. “You're making a scene!”

You could only look at him. A vile laugh bubbles in your chest. 

“Oh, I’m the one making a scene. I wasn’t aware.” You batted your eyelashes and gave him a flash of a smile. “ I am so sorry for ruining your night Derik.” 

He smoothed his clothes down and held out his hand to lead you back to the chair.

“I know sometimes you get in a mood about things, but let’s try and be ra—“

“You asshole!” You hissed. “I was being sarcastic!” You slapped his hand out the way. 

Not wasting anymore time you stormed towards the door and out the restaurant. 

The nighttime L.A. air was warm and hot. 

You longed for home. 

For someone who would just care.

“You fucking—“

He followed you. He fucking followed you and had the nerve to try and call you out your name. How dare—

“This guy bothering you?”

You blinked. 

“This isn’t any of your business. You—“

The stranger ignored Derik and positioned himself halfway between you two, facing your direction.

“I’m sorry but I was a few tables away from yours, and I couldn’t help but notice this guy balling his fists while you were talking, and you looked sad and you were kinda shrinking yourself in this odd way that didn’t look right.

 He talked on and on. Moving his hands a lot, and his eyes seemed a little manic.

The bizarreness of him appearing seemingly out of nowhere and the wildness of his mannerisms oddly repositioned your emotions. An eerie calm washed over you. 

At least for a brief moment.

“It wasn’t right, your way too pretty and important looking to make yourself smaller for some guy.” His eyes locked with yours. “Your date, or whatever it is, can’t be consensual. Because there’s only one way a guy like him could make a woman like you do that.”

He licked his lips, and quickly looked back at Derik before he looked over to you again. 

“You look too amazing,” he frantically ran his fingers through his hair,” and excuse me for saying this. I don’t know you, but you seem too strong and independent of a woman, or strong and independent may not be the right word. Your just too you.” 

“You have five seconds to go away and shut the fuck up before I-—“

“Watch it pal, or I’ll—“

It was over before it started.

Derik instantly hit the ground. One punch from a mysterious stranger and he was down.

“Did he drive you here?”

You shook your head. 

“I’ll take you home.”

“Ok.”

His name was Nick,  he was a bartender, and he had friends who loved him a bit too much.

However, that couldn’t be true. 

They loved him just the right amount. 

He dressed like a lumberjack hipster, or an average working man. Whichever it was he seemed the type of  a man persistent on being different from the rest of modern society, but he didn’t look as burly or surly as most of them tend to, but still stronger than he looked. 

Physical aside, you were sure it was his heart that made him seem gentler. He wasn’t just aloof or someone who kept to themselves in fear of the greater society and its agenda. 

He cared. 

He was kind and he wore his heart on his sleeve. He couldn’t live with himself if he let her stay with Derik for the night. Whether selfish with his intentions or not, you don’t mind.

Deep kind brown eyes and all, you were into it. 

You were into him.

“Nick,” you gently placed your hand on his leg. “Did you have dinner already? I didn’t get the chance after storming out.”

He swerved a bit. Chancing a glance at you and quickly back at the road. 

“Uhm, yeah,” he half choked out in a soft voice. “But I’m always kinda hungry. You have a place in mind?” He nervously looked at you again before looking back at the road.

You brushed your hand up his leg to his chest.

“Anywhere is fine. We can go anywhere as fancy or as casual as you like. My treat” you smiled at him, biting your lip a bit before removing yourself from him completely.

His chest followed your hand. His eyes were on the road but he leaned a bit more in your direction.

“Y-yeah. Ok” 

—-

You were straddling his lap. He was holding you against him with a firm grip. As if  after one blink you’d be gone from him forever. 

You ground against him in slow movements, and he guided you with his hands.

 The friction of his jeans on your bare skin left a hot prickly sensation you couldn’t get enough of. His mouth trailed over yours in a slow firm movement on the edge of desperation before dipping across the skin of your neck, down the curve of your chest and any and every inch of skin his mouth could reach. 

The soft warmth of his mouth in contrast with the prickly tickle of his beard left goosebumps along the expanse of your skin. 

He stops you from grinding against him with the grip of his hands, making you hiss. 

His thumb replaces the slow and steady friction of his jeans going straight for your clit and applying the right amount of pressure, moving it in slow circular movements.

He lightens his grip and your hips chase the movement, chase him as you get closer and closer.

“Let me taste you after you come.” He pleaded in her ear. Moving his hand faster in the process. 

“No.” You moan softly and put your hand on his. “Not yet.”

You were out of your nice top and Nick had discarded your underwear ages ago, hiking your skirt up in the process to please you with his hand. 

He had taken off his flannel, but still had on his undershirt and jeans. 

You reluctantly removed yourself off his lap. 

“Take your clothes off,” you commanded softly, gently placing your hand on his face, you softly brushed your thumb on his lip, “ and get on the bed.”

He placed his hand on top of yours, his humb copying the movement of yours. 

“Use me.” He licked his lips and looked you in the eye. “Take what you need from me.”  

He kissed the palm of your hand and obeyed. 

[youwouldntlietopapa]

Papa with a sick SO (Headcanons)

Primo:

At the first sign of you being sick, he is already mixing his special tea blends and shoving cups of medicinal smelling brew in your hands.

He absolutely does not care if you think it’s “just a cold”, he takes these things very seriously. When it’s you. When it’s him, he’ll manage. The rules are different for him. Because he knows best.

Until you are feeling 100%, he WILL fuss over you. Yes, he does know he gets annoyed when you fuss over him. This is different.

Of course you’re not to worry about your duties. He has already informed Seestor that you are sick and absolutely must stay in bed.

It’s all a bit much, but really, it’s very sweet to have him so set on taking care of you. Besides, it’s better for you both if you get rest and he doesn’t have to worry so much.

And no one is going to complain about getting sick day snuggles on the couch and terrible day time tv.

Secondo:

For a man who so flatly refuses to accept or admit that he’s sick until he’s practically on deaths door, his standards for you are MUCH lower. (Listen, he knows the standards he holds himself to are actually impossible. But Amore is precious in every way and they get far more leeway that anyone else.)

He’s not as quick to pick up on you getting sick as his older brother might be. But once he hears you coughing or that gravelly sick voice or the stuffy nose, he is very concerned.

Don’t bother arguing that you don’t need to go to the infirmary or to be seen by the Ministry doctor. You can walk there beside him or be carried there like a grumpy toddler. The choice is yours.

He has an alarm set so you don’t miss your antibiotics and he made sure to get some yogurt in case the pills upset your stomach.

It’s one of the few times he’ll cancel his office hours. Someone needs to be there making sure you’re taken care of. And, if he absolutely can’t avoid work, he will find a couple of ghouls to do it.

I hope you like pastina, because that is his solution to all illnesses.

You have never really been cuddled until you’ve been cuddled by a very protective, large Italian man who is determined to keep you comfortable and safe, no matter what.

Terzo:

The one upside to Terzo being the most dramatic human in the history of the universe when he’s sick is that he does not question even the most poutiest of sick pouts from you.

Of course he understands how miserable you are. How could anyone not see the suffering you are going through?

The sheer number of pillows and blankets he acquires for you borders on the absurd.

He’ll also run you a hot bath because he heard somewhere that steam is good for you. And even if that isn’t true, he reasons it can’t hurt.

Whatever comfort food you want, he will get it for you.

The sweetness of it all is, admittedly, undercut somewhat by the makeshift hazmat suit he’s wearing, the oven mitts and tongs to keep him from touching any germs, and the Lysol spray he attacks every surface you get near as soon as you step away.

He loves you very much, he just also loves not catching whatever the hell you have.

And he DID agree that the gas mask for cuddles was a bit much.

Copia:

He’s also not super great at picking up on things right away. But any obvious signs you’re sick or you say the words “I don’t feel good” and he is right there.

Of course you need to see the doctor. Don’t be silly. You know he worries. You don’t want him to worry all day, do you?

How can you refuse when he makes the sad puppy eyes?

Once that’s out of the way, prepare to be snuggled within an inch of your life.

And to be told, repeatedly, that you need rest. He will get whatever you need.

You’re going to need to be a little firm about not requiring him carrying you to the toilet, it’s just a touch of the flu. You can manage the 15 steps to the bathroom.

You do however get the sick day unicorn onesies. Those are a must. And he will dance around in his like the absolute goober he is just to make you smile.

Pastina, pastina, pastina.

At the end of the day, though, he will absolutely sit and cuddle you and comb his fingers through your hair and make sure that you’re as comfortable and loved as it’s possible to be.

Nihil:

Oh, you’re sick?

That sounds real rough. For you.

You should go deal with that. Somewhere else.

Away from him.

Please disinfect everything you’ve touched on your way out.

If he doesn’t hear from you in a few days, he’ll send a condolence card.

Well, someone will.

Not him, obviously.

He’s busy.

[yeowangies]

Blood Stains

CHAPTER VIII: We were somewhere else

❧

PAIRING: Raditz/Reader RATING: Explicit CONTENTS: Canon Divergence AU, Slow burn, Smut, Enemies to Lovers. WARNINGS: Explicit sexual content, alcohol drinking. WORDCOUNT: 4423

Summary:

Sometimes it truly feels as if you were somewhere else when you’re with him; you forget the threat that’s coming to Earth, some months from now on.

Notes:

You can check the tag #*bs if you wanna see the previous chapters.

The noises and the wind coming from outside wake you up. And you’re confused because you never leave the balcony door open at night. 

That’s when you realize Raditz has left. Without saying goodbye. 

That has hurt more. While you weren’t expecting him to stay for as long as he had, you deserved at least a few words, a heads up or something. 

However, you can’t be mad or upset about anything else. It has been clear that this was only sex and nothing more; as hurt as you are, you have been warned. That nightmare he had the night before probably pushed him towards leaving abruptly anyway. 

Neither of you had talked about your lives, but by the little things he had mentioned before, sometimes on purpose, sometimes occasionally, you know it must not have been pretty. A warrior race, with a destroyed homeplanet, and only four survivors; that’s dramatic on its own. But you noticed how alert Raditz was the whole time he was at your place. It was difficult not to. The first two days, you figured he must have been nervous, but as days went by, you realized it was more than that. His life must not have been easy if he was cautious almost the entire time he was with you.

The only exception was when you were having sex, which makes sense, otherwise he wouldn’t enjoy himself. And you’re glad you could tell the difference when he was being genuine, because he was damn good in bed then. And you’d blush just by thinking about it because it became obvious that he likes giving you head, and you couldn’t be more thrilled about it. It was an unexpected quality, and you were thankful for it. 

If there’s something that only slightly bothers you, it’s that Raditz only kisses you when he wants to initiate something. But you can’t complain. It was only sex after all. 

It has lasted longer than you anticipated, so you feel greedy for wanting more. But it’s not even up to you, if Raditz decides to come back to see you, that’s up to him. 

It startles you when you hear him knock on your balcony door one night. You know it’s him without checking, because who else would do that? 

“I shouldn’t even let you in,” You say when you open the window. “After you left without even saying goodbye. Two months ago.”

Raditz is standing there, tall and big as always, and looking incredibly amused at your words. But he’s also just wearing his boxers, and that’s terribly distracting. 

“I didn’t think that was part of our arrangement.” He says with a smirk. 

“It’s not, it’s called ‘being nice’.”

“I am not nice.” He scoffs like he’s been insulted.

“You had been nice to me the last time you were here.”

“Because we were fucking.” 

“Is that the only reason? You’re nice because we have sex?” You arch an eyebrow, slightly offended. 

Raditz stares at you for a long moment. You guess he’s just going to say that yes, that’s why he is somewhat good to you, but you’re not even sure if he’s thinking about that the more he keeps his gaze on you.

“You have treated me well, even before we started having sex.” He looks serious as he speaks, and you nod, accepting his words. 

“At least say goodbye when you leave?”

“Fine.”

You let him in, closing the door, once again checking him out. It’s difficult seeing him with so little clothes and not touching him. You could, but you don’t want to take this first step. 

“What happened to you?” You ask him, signaling his lack of attire. 

“The clothes you humans wear are uncomfortable.”

“So you just go around naked?”

“I’m not naked.”

“…Fair enough. Do you need a shower?” For once he doesn’t actually smell bad, but you’re not sure how clean he can get when he’s in the middle of the woods. 

“By your standards, I probably do.” Raditz chuckles, and you roll your eyes. 

You prepare the bathroom for him like you regularly do, and you realize you don’t actually have clothes for him to wear this time. Seeing him walk around in your apartment with just a towel sounds like hell, but it’s infinitely better than seeing him completely naked. Usually you’d be thrilled to see him with absolutely no clothes all the time, but you’re also very aware that he can pummel you hard for hours without stopping, and you’re only human. 

Thankfully, you have a robe that should fit him while you put his underwear in the washing machine. 

“This is uncomfortable.” Raditz says, walking into the living room to find you sitting on the couch. It looks weird on him, and you can’t help a snicker escaping your lips. “Wearing nothing is better than this.”

“You’re not walking around naked in here!”

“Why not? You’ve seen me naked.”

“Just. Don’t, ok?” 

“Fine.” He chuckles.

You glare at him briefly as he sits on the other side of the couch, draping an arm on the back. 

“Have you eaten?” He grunts as a yes. “Do you wanna drink something? I don’t have wine like the last few times, but…”

“I’ll have whatever you have. It’s not like I know what the options are here anyway.”

“Bulma gave me a bottle of whisky the other day, but I can’t drink it on my own.”

“You drank more than a bottle of that wine stuff once.”

“That’s different! Whisky is on another level.”

“How so?”

“It’s just heavier, it has a lot more alcohol than other drinks.”

You don’t have tumblers for whisky, so you get two regular glasses, orange juice, ice and the glass bottle Bulma gave to you some days ago. You pour only a bit on a glass for Raditz to try, gazing at him expectantly when he sniffs the glass before drinking it all in one gulp. You gape at him, horrified and impressed, especially because he looks like he just drank a glass of water, completely unfazed. 

“A-Are you okay?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He hands you back the glass. “I want more.”

“Okay… Was it fine like that or do you want ice? Or orange juice?”

“No, just like that.”

“Okay. Neat.”

“Neat?”

“Yeah, it’s what it's called when it’s just pure whisky. Here.” You hand him the glass back, filling it more now that you’ve seen that he doesn’t seem affected by it. 

As Raditz drinks, you prepare your own drink, with orange juice and ice.

“Why do you drink it like that? Is it better?”

“Uh, for me, yeah… I like it better like this, if I drink it neat I’ll die.”

“I’m surprised your race has lived for so long if almost anything can kill you.”

“We like living on the edge.” You laugh after taking a small sip. 

“Particularly you. You like sleeping with a dangerous man on your bed.”

“I’m sure a lot of women like that.” You quip, and he quirks an eyebrow. It’s always fun to tease him, he always looks hilariously offended when you compare him to human men. 

“So your race is self-destructive.”

“Yeah, like I said, we live on the edge. It’s not like you’re any different.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, you go around the universe to find planets you can sell. That’s dangerous enough if I take into account that the Saiyans are a warrior race. One of many, probably.”

“One of many?”

“Maybe not the right words to say, but I’d guess there are other races who are dangerous and powerful too, yes?”

“You’re overstepping.”

Raditz looks tense and not amused anymore by what you’re saying. You pour him more whisky onto his glass as you speak again. 

“I don’t want to offend you, but am I wrong?”

“I have treated you well, like you said before, but don’t play me for a fool.”

“I’m not saying you’re weak. I’ve seen Goku too, he’s incredibly strong, even when he couldn’t defeat you. But are Saiyans the strongest race out there?”

“Yes.”

You thin your lips when you see his hardened expression. 

“I’m sorry. I’m obviously ignorant since I’ve never been to space.”

“You are.”

You scoff, taking a larger gulp of your second glass. 

“Fine, sorry, I don’t even know how to throw a proper punch.” That makes him laugh quietly, and you sigh, relieved he’s not really that angry. “Maybe you can teach me.”

“How to throw a punch?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve known Kakarot for a long time and you’re asking me to teach you?” 

“I adore him and everything, but I actually haven’t spent too much time with him. He can’t remain still for more than a few days.”

As you prepare your second drink, you feel Raditz’s eyes on you, so you glance at him briefly before taking a sip.

“What?”

“Has there been anything like this between you and Kakarot?”

“Like what?”

“Like… whatever we have.”

“Oh, no! No, no, he’s cute and all but he’s married! And he’s my friend.”

“Married?”

“Yeah, with the mother of his child. You know, the kid you kidnapped?”

“I remember.” He chuckles, drinking more from his glass. “Married, is that like mating?”

“Uh… Yeah, I guess, it’s when two people decide to spend the rest of their lives together.”

When he doesn’t reply, you look him over. Raditz takes another large gulp of his whisky and you’re not sure how he can still remain unfazed. It must have something to do with being a Saiyan. You’re on your fourth glass by now, and while it’s not neat, you’re aware it’s affecting you. Now that you put your eyes on him, you can’t stop staring; he does look ridiculous with that robe, it’s many sizes smaller than he is, obviously, because nothing would fit him otherwise, but he’s still handsome as hell. 

Settling your now empty glass down on the table, you move a little closer to him, your knee touching his thigh.

“Do Saiyan do that too? Spend the rest of their lives with only one person.”

“Some did. It wasn’t common.”

“Commitment issues, huh?”

“No,” Raditz chuckles, eying you carefully as you lean closer. “It simply wasn’t a custom. Anyone could sleep with anyone, whenever they wanted to.”

“Sounds fun.”

When he smirks at you with a playful look in his eyes, you smile, crawling over him and sitting down on his lap with your legs over on one side. He lets you do as you please, gazing at you carefully as you drape your arms over his shoulders.

“I bet you were really popular in space.”

Raditz snorts and drinks what’s left on his glass before you take it from him to put it away on the table. 

“You know nothing, indeed.” He jest with no ill intention, and you smile when you see his smirk growing wider. 

“Not about space customs, no, but I know other things. You’re really handsome.”

“You’re really plastered, woman.”

“I’m not, I’m just a little on the happy side. I mean, you can ask me anything and I’ll probably tell you the truth-” You gasp, pulling back a little to cover your mouth. “Damn it!”

Raditz laughs, loudly, and your face heats up. 

“You aren’t drunk, you say?”

“I’m not! Yo-You haven’t seen me drunk, I’m a lot worse.”

“I want to see that.”

“You really don’t. It’s embarrassing.”

“All the more reason to.” 

You tug at his hair when he laughs again. You haven’t heard him laugh so much before and it’s making your chest swell with affection. He may not be drunk but he seems more relaxed than usual; you could swallow him whole. 

“What do you plan to do now?” Raditz asks, gazing at you with eyes that turn darker and darker by each passing second. 

“What do you mean?” He raises an eyebrow inquisitively. “Oh… I really want to kiss you, but I don’t wanna make the first move.”

“Why’s that?” His eyes flicker to your lips when you lick them nervously.

“I… I don’t want you to push me away or something…”

His hand grips the back of head, tangling his fingers in your hair tightly before pushing you towards him, crushing your lips together. You hum, completely pleased with his moves as you wrap your arms firmly around his shoulders, pressing your body to his as hard as you can.

You’ve missed Raditz when he left, but you realize just how much now that you’re kissing him, like you can’t get enough of him. And it makes you all the more excited to know that he’s returning the kisses just as hard, like he’s missed you too. 

His hands roam your body through your clothes, tugging and squeezing with enthusiasm while you kiss, tongues intertwining until you’re breathless. You gasp for air as you pull away, yanking at the belt of his robe to get it off. He chuckles as he watches you, struggling to get it open, running your hands over his hardened chest once it’s loose enough. With your help he tugs off your shirt, discarding it somewhere on the floor before yanking down your pants along with your underwear. You kick them off on the floor, settling back on his lap with both of your legs on one side and tugging the robe off his shoulders.

You lean over to kiss Raditz again now that you’re both naked, skin burning when you press your body against his. When you move to straddle him properly, his tail wraps itself around your middle while the hand on your waist keeps you in place, and his other hand parts your legs, better accommodating you on his lap as fingers skim across your inner thighs and go directly towards your entrance. 

His tenderness towards you is still a surprise when he gently touches your folds, making you shiver. You kiss him insistently as he starts running his fingers up and down your entrance before rubbing circles against your clit. He has barely started touching you, but you feel weak already, thighs trembling with each stroke in between your legs, making you tighten your hold on his shoulders. A loud moan escapes your lips when he presses one finger inside.

“I’m just getting started,” Raditz purrs with a mischievous grin. “But it looks like you’re going to come already.”

“I just, ah…” You jolt when he pushes in another finger, curling them just right inside you. “I just missed you…”

He chuckles when you kiss him briefly, but you’re too distracted to keep going once he starts sliding his fingers in and out, and pressing his thumb to your clit. His lips slide down your jaw and neck, kissing and biting, and it makes the heat in your belly rapidly grow. It doesn’t help that you feel his hard-on poking your backside, obviously eager for some friction, but he doesn’t try to relieve himself otherwise. Your hips buck into his hand, seeking more, and you whimper when he kisses down your chest and takes a nipple into his mouth. 

“Fuck, I love that…” You moan, cradling his head to your chest. 

You feel Raditz’s smirk against your skin, obviously pleased with himself, even more so when you let out a particularly loud whine as his fingers start gaining speed. 

He teased you about it, but your climax is just around the corner, and while you don’t really want him to stop, you’ve truly missed him, all of him, for your first orgasm to be this way.

“Wait…” You tug at his hair a little harder than you normally would, pushing at his shoulder with your other hand. “I don’t wanna come like this…”

Raditz pulls back to look at you with hunger clouding his eyes as he lets you straddle his hips this time, holding your waist as you position yourself above him. He pumps his erection a few times before guiding you onto him and rubbing the tip against your entrance. You slowly ease yourself down, sinking onto him, mouth falling open once he’s fully inside you; you haven’t forgotten how big he is, but it still takes your breath away when he’s inside you. He groans loudly, his grip on your waist surely leaving bruises and setting your skin ablaze. 

You kiss him hungrily as you wait for your body to get used to him again, cupping his face in your hands.

“You’re so hot, so handsome…” You murmur into his lips, dragging your thumbs across his cheeks.

“I thought you weren’t intoxicated.” Raditz comments with a quiet laugh.

“I’m not saying anything that’s not true, I told you how attractive you are months ago.”

He hums as you keep kissing him, testing the waters and rolling your hips slightly. He had a death grip on your waist, but once you started carefully grinding down on him, he eases his fingers down to your hips before settling on your ass. 

“Then I should have told you how alluring you are.” He says, his eyes are fixed on your face with pure unfiltered lust, as he lets you move at your own speed. “Since the moment I saw you.”

“Who’s drunk now?” You pant with a smile. It’s getting increasingly difficult to think with his impressive cock inside you, even when you’re still taking it slow.

When Raditz bucks up with a sly grin, a sharp moan slips from your lips.

“That’s still you.”

Supporting yourself with your hands on his shoulders, you lift your hips, almost pulling out completely before sinking back down swiftly. He growls deeply, his hands on your behind squeezing tightly as you start moving hard and fast. 

His eyes close as you start riding him, little puffs of air leaving his lips with a few grunts. You certainly enjoy the view, it’s always a thrill when you get to be on top, but the slight tipsiness is making you look at him through tunnel vision. His dick inside you, reaching all the sensitive spots at once, makes it harder to think about anything else but him.  

“I want you, I want you so much.” You moan, leaning down to kiss him fervently. “I missed you…”

Raditz smiles against your lips, kissing you back with the same intensity and squeezing your butt tightly, making your moves falter. You whimper when he suddenly thrusts up with measured purpose, and you see stars behind your lids when his cock hits inside you hard and just right. 

He starts meeting your hips every time you sink down, jolts of pleasure pulsing through your body as his dick slides in and out. That tight heat in your abdomen keeps growing, you can feel how close you’re to the edge already. You hold onto him tightly, digging your nails on the skin of his shoulders, still kissing him as if your life depends on it. You want to drag this out a little longer, to be this close to him just for a few more minutes, but you know you can’t when your thighs start trembling and the skin in between your legs tingle. 

The fierce pace of his hips leaves you speechless when you come, mouth agape to let out a stuttered moan as your mind goes blank. Pleasure spreads through your body, making it shiver as you desperately cling to him. 

Raditz keeps his gaze on your face, watching you come undone and cursing under his breath when you tighten around him. He thrusts into you faster, seeking his own climax and prolonging yours, making you quiver with aftershocks. You slump forward, resting your head on his shoulder and letting him take control now, too overwhelmed to keep up with him.

He wraps his tail around your thigh, squeezing it, and that’s how you can tell he’s getting closer. He growls, holding your hips and thrusting upwards into you roughly, making you jolt. He bites your neck and digs his fingers into your flesh when he comes, filling you with his load up to the brim, and you gasp at the sensation of being so thoroughly full. His cock is pulsing, buried deep inside you, and you hear him groan your name quietly into your skin.

You whimper when Raditz pumps into you a couple of times before he goes completely still. You lay limply against his chest, completely still as you try to catch your breath. When you feel his hands caress your sides, you press a few kisses on his neck. 

“Don’t tempt me or you won’t be walking tomorrow.” He murmurs lazily, resting his hands on your behind. 

“Promise?” You grin mischievously, earning a gentle slap on your butt. 

His tail is still lazily wrapped around your leg, and you take the opportunity to caress it gently. You hear Raditz purr faintly from his chest, and you look up at him just when he pushes your hand away. 

“Why are you all so fascinated with my tail?”

“What do you mean?”

“Some other woman also tried to touch it.”

“What? Who?” You pull away a little to look at his face, confused. 

“I didn’t care to ask for her name, she was walking near the river when I was there.”

“You didn’t, like, kill her or anything, did you?”

“No.” Raditz chuckles, and you sigh, relieved, leaning your head on his shoulder again. “I just had sex with her.”

“What?” You draw back, pushing yourself away to stare at him. He has a blank expression on his face, he isn’t joking. You frown, feeling something sting in your chest. “When was this?”

“Months ago.” He’s frowning too when he notices how perplexed you look, and he keeps his eyes on your face the further away you retreat. “It was before we kissed for the first time.”

You breathe out loudly, feeling a little reassured, but not for much. It’s hard to know what you feel at the moment with Raditz so close, and his cock still inside you, so you untangle yourself from him, wincing when he slips out. He holds your hips tightly until he notices that you actually want to withdraw from him so he lets go, staring at you carefully. 

It was months ago, before you kissed. That should make you less upset, because nothing had happened between you two then.

It shouldn’t upset you at all, though. Because you’re not in a committed relationship. Far from it, actually.

The realization that he might be sleeping with other people suddenly draws on you.

“What’s wrong with you?” Raditz asks, burning holes right through you the more he stares. 

“W-Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Should I have?”

“Well… I…” You trail off, not really sure what’s the right answer. “Are you… having sex with other people? Besides me…”

“No.” He replies after a beat. You remain quiet, avoiding his eyes, which just makes him frown more. “Out with it, woman. If something is bothering you so much you can’t even look at me, you should speak now.”

You know you’re dealing with an alien who doesn’t know about human social cues, but his words still annoy you. The fact that you’re a little tipsy isn’t helping.

“I just… I think you should have told me.”

“Why?”

“Because you should have!”

“Would that have made you change your mind about our arrangement?”

“No! Yes-I don’t know…”

“Then what’s your problem?”

“I don’t know, okay? It just bothers me that you slept with someone and didn’t tell me!”

Raditz growls, obviously angry, though you’re not sure why. He stands up and walks past you, but you grab his wrist.

“Don’t go.”

“Why not? You’re obviously distressed, even if you can’t explain to me why.”

“I know, I…” You reach for your shirt, trying to cover yourself once you notice how cold and exposed you feel at the moment. “Did you sleep with other people?”

“I told you no.” He growls, clenching his fists. “Have you?”

“Huh?”

“Slept with other people.”

“No…” 

You grab the robe, standing up to put it on his shoulders. The fact that he’s naked is also distracting you from whatever is going on in your head. 

“Is that what’s bothering you? That I might sleep with other people?” Raditz asks, turning to look at you. You try your best to keep your eyes on his face and not let them trail downwards when you nod meekly. “I’m not. And I won’t.”

You nod again, averting your eyes to the side. What he said before still stings, and he’s obviously not the smoothest talker either (he has no reason to be after all, not even with you), but you’re pleased with his words nonetheless. 

This isn’t a relationship, you repeat in your mind, until Raditz comes closer, bringing you back to the present.

“I don’t want you to sleep with anyone but me.”

“What?”

“I want you to only have sex with me. And I’ll only have sex with you.” Raditz looks completely serious when you gaze at him, without the usual smirk on his face, as you take his words in. “Just give me a warning if-when you decide to end it.”

When.

Right.

Sometimes it truly feels as if you were somewhere else when you’re with him; you forget the threat that’s coming to Earth, some months from now on.

“Okay. I agree.”

Raditz nods, and you sigh, feeling a lot of things at once. You really shouldn’t have drunk more than two glasses. 

His tail sliding slowly and gently across your hips makes you jump before you feel his hands carefully bringing you closer to him by the waist. When you don’t make any moves to pull away, he leans down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. 

You would scream at him for how confusing some of his actions can be if you hadn’t just agreed to have sex with each other exclusively. There isn’t anything confusing about whatever is happening between you and Raditz because you had talked about it explicitly just now, but you’re aware about how fast your heart beats now that he’s kissing you so gently. 

You’re drunk, and he’s hot, and his skin burns when he touches you, and you don’t really want to ponder on anything at the moment, you just want to have him close. He grins when you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your body to his as the kiss turns heated, and his hands slide underneath your shirt.

[oh-my-hubris]

Loyalty Of Angels 4: Badge Of Honor

Jhonny moves in with Logan two years after getting a job (nominally with the Seraph)

1324

The Seraph headquarters bustled without feeling hectic. Jhonny liked it, it was comforting in a way he still managed to be surprised by. People came in and out with their problems, petty criminals were moved around. The office itself was brightly lit, large glass windows let the light in to dance on the clean stone tiles. Logan’s personal office was in the back, a smaller room with dark paneled wood that held a desk and papers, but not usually Logan himself. 

Logan stayed out with the ‘grunts’ and with the rest of the Seraph. It was part of why he was so generally rooted in reality and in the job.

It probably helped that his office was miserable. After less than a year with the Seraph, Jhonny had become pretty sure that was on purpose. Now he knew it was.

He had a cup of tea on his desk and was going through Logan's schedule for the next month and noticing again that the man didn't believe in breaks unless they were going for a walk with Queen Jennah. 

But everything he was doing had to be able to be taken over by other people in case of an emergency. 

So, over the two years he'd been with the Seraph, Jhonny had worked to gain the respect and trust of the people he worked with. This had given him the ability to scheme with Lieutenant Francis and Sergeant Tailor and start moving things around so Logan had to sit down for twenty minutes every now and then. 

Logan, who complained about always working, had not entirely taken the change in stride.

The shadow fell over his desk, immediately recognizable, and Jhonny didn't bother looking up. He lifted his mug of tea to his mouth and took a drink before setting it back down and returning to his papers. “No, I'm not giving you back Tuesday's patrol route. You're lucky I'm not making you take the day off.” 

Logan huffed a little laugh. “I know. Francis already lorded it over me. You can't stop me.” 

Jhonny looked up with an unimpressed eyebrow to find Logan smiling. “I could drug your tea but someone might actually need you for something.”

Logan set something on the desk. 

“What’s this?” Jhonny asked as he picked it up. It was a small metal wing on a chain. He turned it over in his hands. In miniscule print it read: J. Jackson #1541. 

“It’s an identification badge,” Logan said, even though Jhonny had been with the Seraph for two years and definitely knew that. “Keep it on.” 

“This is a Seraph badge,” Jhonny said, not pulling his eyes from the inscription. Logan had included his last name. He’d only had a last name for two years. It still felt strange—like he belonged somewhere. And Logan putting this on his desk implied that he belonged here.  “Logan, I’m not a Seraph.” 

“You work for the Seraph,” Logan said. “You deserve a badge.” 

“No, I mean I’m pretty sure I’m not allowed to have one," Jhonny clarified. "These are to identify Seraph if they die. If I’m wearing this and I kick it someone will assume I’m Seraph and notify my… I don’t have any next of kin. Well, Andrew and Petra I guess, because I live there.” 

That’d irritate Katsulas. 

“They’d notify me,” Logan said. “As your friend. As your… roommate.” 

Jhonny blinked. He looked up at Logan. 

They… didn't live together. 

Was Logan asking him to move in? 

The idea was warming. Thinking that someone liked him enough to want him around more often. It did seem like a strange move from Logan though. 

It would also make his job easier and give him time to actually sleep.

Jhonny’s mouth flapped a little, brow furrowing with a question he couldn’t quite figure out how to voice. 

Logan's smile was just a little awkward and it was completely endearing. “You live in the attic of a tavern on the other side of the city.” 

“It’s… not a bad attic.” Jhonny hedged, slightly overwhelmed and trying very hard not to show it.

“And I could use the company,” Logan admitted.

Jhonny could count on one finger the number of times he’d felt truly touched by something. And he knew that if he opened his mouth he’d make a mess of things. So he didn’t open his mouth, not at first. He slid the chain over his neck and tucked the wing into his shirt alongside the half of his parent’s amulet. 

Then he swallowed. 

Then he thought. 

And then he spoke. “Sounds like fun,” he couldn’t help the brightness of his smile. “I don’t exactly have a whole lot in the way of belongings. I can be moved in… tonight… if that’s alright.” 

“That’s perfect,” Logan said. “I’ll get you a key made in the meantime.” He reached over and gave Jhonny’s shoulder a squeeze. “You’re important to me, Jhonny. I consider you a true friend.” 

“You make me cry in public and I will sully the moment I swear.” 

Logan chuckled. “Well, that is something you're good at.” 

“A man needs to contribute something to society. In my case it's mostly just bad jokes and stupid one liners.”

[byunbhyunz]

Hanbin - “If I die, I’m going to haunt your ass.”

Pairing: Hanbin/Reader

Genre: fluff, sliceoflife!au

Word count: 1,190

Prompt: “If I die, I’m going to haunt your ass.”

You should have known it was a bad idea. Actually, following Hanbin’s idea of going out in the middle of the night to God knows where was never a good thing. It got you into sticky situations in the past enough.

After telling him no for a few times, he seemed not to be fazed by it, only pressuring you more into saying yes by promising you to hear his newest song. This is where it all came from. He finished a song some time around 1 AM, and he called you afterward to go hang out with him. He told you he wanted you to listen to it, but it should happen at somewhere else than your or his place. That goes well along with the atmosphere of the song. His words, not yours. The sincerity in his voice convinced you in the end.

“I don’t know what kind of song needs to be heard on a rooftop of an old building,” you mumbled.

Climbing up on the fire escape, the metal steps made muffled sounds as you forcefully thumped on them. “Is it really necessary though? We could have just come when the sun is up for once.”

Hanbin chuckled in a low voice. You shivered, either from the cold or his laugh. If you closed your eyes, you could see his smile, even the little blush on his cheeks caused by the wind.

“Shit!” You whisper-shouted as your foot slipped on the steps and you grabbed tight on the handrail, saving yourself from a nasty fall and possibly from a few broken bones and bruises. Maybe closing your eyes while going up on a fire escape (or any stairs) wasn’t a bright idea. Just like going out to listen to a song in the middle of the night. But it was important to Hanbin, so you came. But it didn’t mean you couldn’t complain about it. “If I die here, I’m going to haunt your ass.”

Hanbin put his hand on yours as you refused to let go of the handrail.

“You promise?” His joking tone was telling a very different story than his tight hold on your fingers. He took your hand in his, and waited for your answer.

This shy and waiting look on his face became the normal lately. The circles of tiredness seemed to be darker than ever, but there was steadiness in his eyes. Like he finally made peace with something that was bothering him for a long time. You wished he would tell you what it was.

“You want me to promise you that I will haunt you?”

Your voice was barely above a whisper. It felt inappropriate to talk any louder than that, even if it was about a ridiculous things like haunting him as a ghost in afterlife. His Adam’s apple bobbed, a hungry look flickering in his brown eyes. Suddenly realizing how close he actually was, a warm feeling formed in your stomach, slowly spreading through your body. You’ve been this close to him many times before, but never felt like this. His presence never made you nervous and calm all at once.

“Yeah. I will definitely do the same if I die first.”

A soft smile tugged on his lips, then started to climb the stairs again, still holding onto your hand. You either had to let go of it or follow him closely. You didn’t want to let go. The night is cold and his hand is warm, you tried to reason with yourself, but it sounded like an excuse.

“So? Promise?” He asked without looking back.

“I promise,” you agreed.

After arriving on the rooftop, he tugged you to the center of it. He pointed at the ground.

“We should lay down first.”

“You want to lay down on the cold ground?”

“We have to. The song has that feeling where we should lay down and look at the stars,” he explained like it was the most obvious thing on the planet. You looked reluctantly at him, and seeing his expression made you sigh.

“This better be the best song I’ve ever heard. And you have to bring me chicken soup if I get sick tomorrow.”

He pulled out his phone and earphone from the pocket of his hoodie, and laid on the ground, stretching his arm out for you. You still hesitated a little, but his next words persuaded you:

“We can cuddle while listening to it.”

“You should have started with this,” you mumbled as you laid down, cuddling to his side.

You rested your head on his shoulder, and he handed you half of the earphones. He shuffled a little with his phone in his hands. You watched as he unlocked it, stopping for a moment before he opened the music player. Memories flooded your mind only by looking at his background picture. He took it when you were spending some fun time with the members of iKON. All of you were laying around in your tiny living room, eating take out food and laughing your asses off on silly jokes and even sillier impersonations of each other. You looked so happy and content. It was a nice picture, the only problem with it was that Hanbin wasn’t in it.

He took a big breath and finally played the song. You closed your eyes to get ready, and then, music and feelings washed over you. For at least a minute there was only the melody of a piano and guitar playing, then he started to sing and rap. It felt like… well, exactly like him.

In your opinion, he was right and wrong about what king of song it was. You didn’t need to come up here and watch stars in the middle of the night to get a full grasp of it. You only had to close your eyes and be cuddled by him, because that’s what it felt like. The song was like the hugs he gave you, and the tone of his voice when he talked to you, and even the way he held your hand earlier. It was him.

He sang about hope to be loved by the right people, and being thankful for already being loved by many of them. Wishing that it would last forever.

“What do you think?” He asked in the smallest voice you ever heard from him when the song ended. You lifted your head to look in his eyes. They were shining from the moon, and street lights, and feelings.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered. Caressing his face, you couldn’t look away from him. “Like you.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes. Please.”

The smile on his face only melted away when your lips touched. The need to be closer to him made your body move on its own. He hummed against your mouth as the song played again. His lips were soft and warm, you just couldn’t resist tasting them with your tongue too. He hummed louder at that, opening his mouth to fully kiss you. A low moan escaped your mouth.

His smile was back. Time seemed to stop.

It was perfect.

[cloama]

I want to talk about Barbie (2023) but not really in conversation with anyone so I think it’ll be a trickle of thoughts about my theatre experience.

For instance, while the theatre was packed with mothers and daughters, I was seated next to a tween boy who was not excited for the movie. He damn near passed out laughing during several scenes. He didn’t finish any of his snacks. He didn’t go to the bathroom.

None of the children in the theater went to the bathroom, which you’ll know if the true testament of a a movie’s success. Nobody moved, honey.

The monologue has been critiqued as baby’s first feminism but I don’t know what y’all wanted from a megacorp. I’m still surprised it even got in there. One of the moms in the theater stood the up and clapped bc apparently she needed some of that second wave feminism. Everyone’s politics isn’t where yours is. It always starts somewhere. Again do not know why people are complaining. This is nothing compared to Marvel’s not infamous girl power moment where they all just stood there. Also the speech while very Plan but heartfelt, coming from America Ferrara just carries a couple extra layers for me personally as she was one of the first actresses of my generation who was a chubby teen girl who was allowed to be a real person.

Also it’s not just the monologue. It’s wishing it was as easy as pulling your fellow people into the back of the van and reprogramming them with facts. In a world where facts literally don’t matter anymore, it felt like science fiction. I don’t know y’all, I just got a lot out of that script. Like if your gonna do a giant advertisement movie, this is about as good as it gets. And it didn’t feel icky like a dove ad. Similar to the mist recent Dungeons and Dragons, it felt like playing.

The Ken stuff was fun but we have to discuss the MASTERFUL use of Matchbox 20’s Push, which is about the rare disempowered man who wishes to get a leg up on his female partner who appears to be emotionally hurting him in their relationship. I need time. Bc Greta? Noah? They were crazy for that one. Absolutely mad. Ken comparing his struggle with Barbie’s boundaries to a man whose actually being hurt bc Ken is a doll and that’s about as far as his understanding goes [see: horses]. Reader, I died laughing. I think I was the only one in the theater that this bit really worked for. It was a stroke of genius and seems to be going unnoticed.

The acafans have been surprisingly quiet about this movie, all the merch and the orchestrated resurgence of Barbie. Make no mistake, this is fandom. Star Wars fans were allowed to buy their books, dolls, and bumper stickers in peace but the idea that a movie will make some people want to buy a 20 dollar doll or some pink pants is stressing people out. Would love everyone to step back and breathe. They’re always going to try to sell us something. They’re selling us something most of y’all have been buying.

I think I am less bothered by the capitalistic effects because for once I didn’t totally hate the experience of being sold something. Probably because I’m not buying anything and while I live a pink life, I’m not actually a Barbie girl. What I am is an early educator and dolls, dramatic play are a huge part of development.

What I also am, apparently, is a Barbie movie script defender because above all else, that script was tight as fresh box braids. A hilarious straight forward comedy. It should be a celebration of putting money behind talent but it’s a reminder of why writers need to be fairly compensated. This movie marks the end of summer, representing so many things. It’s complicated. Pink and complicated.